#((I am gonna see my doctor this month so hopefully I can get a note from them to get some prescription cream where I am not allergic to it)

[viviskull]

My immune system every time I go to put some hand cream on my dry ass knuckles:

[whumperstorm]

Supressing Fire - Part 3

Content: Vampire whumper, defiant whumpee, choking, mild violence, past child abuse

Keegan struggles to settle into her captivity. Even if she wants to cooperate while she heals, she's not very good at it. Kane is his usual angry, lonely self.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1/Previous/Next

Keegan spends her week of recovery worrying about her sister. Lohitha can handle herself, but she's still a kid, and Keegan has been gone a while now, and will be for at least another month. She needs to know if she’s ok. That she has a warm place to stay and food to eat. God, she probably thinks Keegan is dead... Or worse, that she abandoned her. The idea alone leave’s Keegan’s heart aching in her chest.

Her anxious thoughts swirl around into a storm of worry in her brain to the point she can't sleep. She's almost glad when Kane returns once her pneumonia clears up. She was about ready to start pounding on the door just for the distraction.

"Good evening," Kane greets as he enters. He's had some time to calm down in the week since. He's glad to be back, too. He's trying to look at it as a fresh start. He can feed from his human like a proper vampire, and everything will be fine and normal from now on. "Are you better now?"

Keegan takes as deep a breath as she can with her injuries. 'keep calm. cooperate.' She reminds herself. 'Even though he has a very punchable face.'

"I am. Pneumonia-wise at least. Ribs’ still fucked." She says, sitting up.

"That's good to hear. Hopefully, such things are behind us now."

"Mhm." she hums, not trusting herself with a response.

He almost sounds like he cares that she's feeling better. But Keegan knows he's just glad he has is bloodbag back. She can't believe he's acting so nonchalant now. 

Kane decides to feed with his human sitting down, worried about causing more damage to her ribs- he does not want to go back to the doctor. He wishes she wasn't taller than him, so it wouldn't be an issue. He'll choose more wisely next time.

He licks the wound shut when he's done. "I'll take a new grocery list." He says. It's been a week, and his human is surely running low on food.

Keegan shudders with disgust. She put bandages on the list so hopefully she can get him to stop licking her once they're delivered. She hands him the note, mostly just restocking what she had, then after a moment she blurts out, "Do you have a phone?"

"I do. Much more efficient than letters for most things, nowadays." Kane can already see where she's going with this. There's no reason she'd be asking otherwise. "And no, you may not use it."

Her instinct is to snap back at him, but this is too important. "Please, I just need to call my sister. You can listen in if you think I'm gonna try to send a code or something."

Kane is neither amused nor sympathetic. "If you think you are getting any concessions after your little stunt, you are out of your fucking mind. Forget about your sister. You're mine now."

The words hit Keegan like a slap to the face. Anger and desperation bubble up in her stomach in equal measure. "Forget about- How dare you! She's only twelve and she's all alone now. I need to make sure she has somewhere to go! This isn't about me."

"How many times do I have to remind you to watch your tone?" Kane snaps back, unwavering. The thought of his human having a caring family makes him angrier, for reasons he doesn't want to think about. "She's just a human, and what happens back in human territory doesn't concern you anymore. Get over it."

Get over it.

Kane can say whatever the fuck he wants about Keegan. But the moment the words about Lohitha are out of his mouth, she's swinging. No one insults her little sister. "You heartless LEECH-"

Kane grabs her arm before the punch can connect. He's furious now.

"You will show proper respect!" he barks. He lets go of her arm, but takes her neck just as quickly, slamming her into the wall. His grip is tight enough that she can't speak, can't breathe. Can't disrespect him anymore.

Keegan chokes, scrabbling at the bruising grip against her throat. Her vision wavers. She has no air! She kicks her legs wildly in panic.

"What? Can't run your fucking mouth now?" Kane mocks- zero humor in his voice, only rage. But he knows that humans can't survive without air too long like vampires can. After about ten seconds, he lets go, throwing her to the ground. Probably not the best for her healing ribs, but he's too pissed-off to care.

Keegan desperately sucks in air, trying to curl up against the pain, but that only makes it worse. She kneels there gasping for a moment until she doesn’t feel on the brink of passing out. She looks up at Kane, who seems much more menacing now, towering over her. ‘Just like-’

"Learned your lesson?"

She nods in defeat, too afraid to speak, in case she angers him more.

"Good." He leaves her alone. 

Keegan remains kneeling on the floor, arms wrapped around herself like a hug, for a long time. Tears burn at the corner of her eyes once again. She fiercely holds them back, thinking only of her hatred for Kane until the ache in her heart is locked away.

-----

Things continue in a similar manner for some time. Kane feeds, his human usually complies, but often mouths off. There are no more major incidents for weeks, and his human's injury seems to be healing. It could almost be called peaceful. He gets her groceries as requested. He never spends more than about five minutes a day with her. 

Kane has always been lonely, but being lonely with someone else in his house is a new experience. He knows it's not the same, it's not like she's a person. But one rainy night, about a month and a half later, he's feeling particularly lonely. He remembers how he and Bellamy would play chess on rainy nights like these when he was a boy. He knows it's pathetic, but after feeding that night, he sticks around. "Would you be interested in playing a game or watching a movie? I'm bored."

Keegan can't help herself. "What, you don't have any vampire buddies to hang out with?"

It sours Kane's mood instantly. Why did he think this would be a good idea? "Shut the fuck up. Final warning." He ignores the question. "And final offer."

Keegan backs off. She doesn't want to ruin this chance. She hates him; she should tell him to fuck off and leave her alone. But she also feels like she's going to tear her hair out if she doesn't get out of this room.

"Yeah alright. Sure." She stands up.

Kane is pleased he's gotten her to accept without needing to embarrass himself. He doesn't really like her, but... he's tired of being alone, and she's here.

He holds the door open for her. "Do you want chess or cards?"

"Depends on if you're willing to teach me how to play chess." Keegan says.

"I am. Everyone starts somewhere." With that, Kane takes the chess set out. He positions it in the middle of the couch and begins arranging the black pieces. "Set up the white pieces on your side the same way I'm setting up mine. White goes first and has a slight advantage."

Keegan sits down across from him and follows his directions. "Aw," She smirks. "Giving me the advantage? How sweet."

‘Maybe this will be ok.’ Keegan thinks. If nothing else, to make them less violent towards each other until she’s able to escape. It feels so weird though.

"You're the beginner." Kane says. It should be obvious that she gets the advantage, right? How pathetic would it be if he took the advantageous position over someone just learning to play, when he's been playing chess for nearly a century? "Have you ever played checkers?"

"Yeah, me and my si-" Keegan cuts herself off. Best not to talk about her sister right now. Or think about her. She starts again. "Yeah, I've played checkers. I tried to get into chess a few times but never committed. But, I'm bored enough to learn."

-----

Kane explains the rules: how each piece moves, how to determine a check or checkmate. He even goes over a few basic opening moves and strategies. "While you're learning, you can go back and change moves if you realize you've made a mistake. You go first."

Keegan follows Kanes directions, and actually ends up figuring it out pretty quickly. It's complicated, but in a challenging puzzle kind of way. Halfway through their first game, she speaks up.

"So earlier, what I said was a genuine question. Like, what do you do all day? You even got a job?"

"I don't need a job, I'm nobility. Tonight's too dreary to go out." There are no windows in Kane's house, but the rain can be heard pattering against the walls. "I'd need to drive instead of run, and parking is aggravating..."

He avoids his human's question yet again, too embarrassed to admit he's a hermit.

"Good to know that traffic is just as ass on this side of the border." Keegan says. "I run just for the hell of it and I've done it in the rain, but I suppose it's different if you're going a hundred miles an hour." She'd love to be running right now. She hasn't seen the sun in over a month.

Keegan moves her rook absent-mindedly.

"Oh, look at that! You made check!" Kane points out excitedly. He's glad the human's picking it up fast: it makes for more interesting games than if he had to just babysit her for it. He makes a move away. "Try to do it again. And yes, it's far different when running. Imagine driving in the rain with no windshield."

Keegan blinks in surprise. "Oh, I did?" She moves again with her knight this time.

She ends up close to checkmate a few times before making a mistake and getting cornered. She finds herself enjoying the evening more than she thought. The two chat idly, it's awkward, but bearable.

She beats him in only her third game.

"Very good!" Kane praises. He must be an excellent teacher. This is ideal: it would be boring playing against a beginner so much, tediously building up her skills. The human's even been nice to be around, far more so than he'd expected. "You're an absolute natural."

"Thanks." It was probably a fluke, Keegan is not very good at tabletop games. She hopes he wasn't going easy on her. Or worse, patronizing her. He sounds genuine in his excitement at least. But then it happens again. And again. The game is surprisingly simple for her now that she knows the rules. She can easily guess Kane's moves and prepare accordingly, almost like moves in a fight.

Now this is exciting. Kane has to admit he's gotten rusty: he hasn't had someone to play chess with in quite a while, and often would only practice against himself in solo chess. That must be why this young human with her fresh ideas is beating him. And it means he has something to work towards. That night is the most fun Kane's had in ages.

----

Keegan's ribs eventually heal. Her bruises fade. She regains her full range motion and a new appreciation for the ability to stretch her arms above her head. She's been in Kane's house for two months now. It's been... tolerable. Kane feeds every evening, and although her pain tolerance is high and the bites themselves don't bother her too much, the repetition is starting to drive her up the wall. Kane also didn't accept her proposal to use bandages, stating that it would be "wasting blood". The disgusting licks continue. 

Now that she's healed, she wants to stop pretending she's ok with all of this bullshit. Some days, when he invites her out for chess, she and Kane actually seem to get along. They're personalities are similar enough that Keegan thinks they maybe could have been friends if they'd met differently. If he wasn’t an abusive piece of shit that kidnaps people.

Kane has allowed her some amenities to help her pass the time. Books, art supplies, etc. However, Keegan has always been outdoorsy, and being cooped up is making her twitchy. She hasn’t been on a run, seen the sky, or had a goddamn cigarette for far too long. Her temper is even shorter than normal, and she's paid the price multiple times when she's mouthed off at Kane. She's still a prisoner and now that she's healed, her mind is screaming at her to Get. Out.

 Which is a problem. Because she has no plan. She has no weapons, any time she's out of the room, Kane is right there, and the door is always locked up tight when she's alone. She wishes she could talk to her hunting partner. Vivian was always the levelheaded one. The one with the plan. Keegan isn’t patient like her. She’s the fighter. The muscle. She isn’t meant to be idle. Something needs to change soon or she's going to blow a fuse. 

It all comes to a head one night while Keegan is cooking dinner. She's been extra pissed off tonight, for reasons she can't pinpoint, but everything is making her skin crawl. She's a ticking time bomb. And it's something so small that does it. She's reaching towards the fridge to fill her cup of water, and her sleeve snags on the cabinet. Something snaps in her mind. She sees red and she hurls the glass across the kitchen, shattering it against the wall with a loud BANG. 

Fuck.

Kane is on the second floor, and wouldn't usually hear anything going on in the human quarters, but vampires have very good hearing, and that was loud.

He rushes to the door. He hesitates a moment, mindful that the human's attacked before. But he took all her weapons, didn't he? And she's been behaving. Surely, this is unrelated.

He flings the door open. "What was that?"

Keegan stares uncomprehendingly at the mess of glass. Her blood is still boiling. That wasn't enough. She hears Kane behind her and that just makes her Angier. Can he not just leave her alone??

"AUGH, fuck OFF!" she roars. Not even specifically at him. At everything. At nothing. She turns back around and swipes her empty plate off the counter for good measure.

"Hey! What the fuck!?" Kane storms toward her with violent intent, instantly pissed-off.

Slap. 

"What's gotten into you? Stop this at once!"

The sting of the hand across her face cuts through the haze of anger, and for a moment, it's no longer Kane standing over her, but her father. Liquor bottle in hand and fist raised with the promise of more pain. Keegan cowers.

"Wait! I'm sorry- I'm sorry! She gasps for breath, her heart pounding. "I just... I need a minute."

"What is this?" Kane gestures wildly at the floor, broken glass and ceramic strewn all over. "You're breaking my things, making a mess, and telling me to fuck off? You'd better be sorry!"

Keegan takes a few deep breaths to collect herself, hoping Kane won't use her silence as a reason to hit her again.

"I can't... I can't do this," She says desperately, grabbing fistfulls of her hair. "I'm going insane in here. I didn't mean to break the- I just got angry."

Kane hates how much he relates to that. He shouldn't be relating to a human. This isn't supposed to be an equal relationship. "Well, you need to clean this shit up and get a handle on it. You're my human now, and you need to get used to it," he says firmly.

"I can't just 'get a handle on it'." She argues. "It runs in my family. I need an outlet or this is gonna happen again. Back at home I had a-" Oh. Maybe that would work? Only if she can convince him though. She stands up. 

"Listen, I'll clean this up, alright? I don't like breaking things. Back at home, when I couldn’t go outside, I had this punching bag that I'd take my energy out on, or just hit for fun. If you'd get me one, I promise not to break any more of your things."

It's not proper. Kane pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. He shouldn't be rewarding his human with gifts when she misbehaves.

But... if it works? If it actually helps her behave? He needs all the help he can get.

"Fine!" he concedes. "No more outbursts or I take it away and all your breakables get replaced with plastic. Clean this up. Now. I'll take the remains when you're done." He's not stupid enough to leave an array of sharp objects in the human's hands again.

He actually went for it. Keegan is surprised, but relieved. Losing her cool is always humiliating, but here, it's a threat to her safety. Hopefully this way she can get Kane off her back. And maybe get hit a little less...

"Got it." She says, trying not to grimace at him ordering her around. She wasn't going to just leave it there. She steps past him to the closet for the broom and dustpan, and his eyes bore into her back while she cleans. Why is he just standing there? She doesn't need a fucking chaperone. It makes the anger simmer back to the surface but she forces it down. 'I'm getting what I want here, just relax'.

Kane waits until every shard is swept up into a trash bag, then takes it. "See to it this doesn't happen again."

It's three nights later when he shows up for his feeding with a gift: the punching bag. He hands it over after he's finished feeding, licking the human's blood off his lips. "Here. Vampire punching bags are far too strong for a human, so I've had to order it special from human territory. You'd better appreciate it."

"Thanks!" Despite the circumstances, Keegan is ecstatic about the punching bag. It makes sense that it wouldn't be a vampire's version, and it concerns her how easily Kane can just get things from human territory, but she doesn't dwell on it. He already stole a literal human from there anyway. She's also not surprised that he doesn't offer to help her set it up and unfortunately that means she's going to have to ask him for another favor. Unless she wants to fight with this thing for the next three hours. 

"Um, I can set up the stand and everything but... Would you maybe... hook it on the chain when I'm done?" Keegan asks. ‘Please say yes, I don't want to throw my back out before I even get to use it.’

"Only if you ask properly." Kane figures he can use this as an opportunity to get his human used to using proper titles. The punching bag will help her behave in more ways than one.

Keegan grimaces. "I'll do it myself." She turns around and starts to unpack the pieces.

Kane sighs. "You'll have to learn your place eventually. If you end up changing your mind, just leave it and you'll have another chance tomorrow." He leaves her, wondering if he's made the right decision. It's been months, and she's still not respecting him. Maybe he should try forcing his hand more with it. He'll see how this goes, first.

Keegan is smug as she sets up the stand. Maybe it's petty, but she'll take what rebellion she can get. She doesn't need him, she can do it. She'll make a pulley system out of her bedsheets or something.

-----

She can't do it. Not for lack of trying, but she just doesn't have the tools or the strength to lift it high enough. She stubbornly works at it for hours, but eventually she has to call it quits when she hears a small rip from the fabric. Her face burns when Kane returns the next morning.

"Please help me lift it, sir." She forces out between clenched teeth.

To his credit, Kane shows no outward signs of gloating, though he is certainly celebrating on the inside. He wants the human to want to address him properly, he's not going to push her away from doing so. He nods, nice and casual. "Of course." The bag is as light as it was when he carried it inside the previous night, and he sets it up with ease. "That looks like it should about do it. Now, mealtime."

---

Keegan is expecting smugness, and Kane’s calm demeanor is almost worse. She knows she just lost this little game of theirs and she knows he knows that. But, the bag is up now at least. She can tape a picture of Kane's face on it later to make feel better.

She has to wait a little while after the feeding to regenerate her blood sugar before she gets to try it out. When she does, it’s perfect. Her muscles burn with the effort after her lack of exercise, but it's satisfying and stimulating in the best way. For hours, she wails all her frustrations out on it. Her anger, her helplessness, her embarrassment. The loneliness and sadness that she's been holding all this time, released through every strike. By the time she's done she can tell she'll be sore as hell tomorrow. But she feels satisfied and relaxed in a way she hasn't since her captivity began.

Her mind feels clearer too. She'll find a way out of here. She'll find a way back to Lohitha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @whumpsday @not-a-space-alien @anomalys-taxonomy @what-if-i-just-did @dragonqueenslayer6

[coldbones222]

y’all will be happy to hear I’m taking care of myself 💗

even though it was a few days ago, like almost a week ago when I had the seizure, im at the ER now telling them about it

also getting a sick note for work because of my cough

update: the doctor said after 6 months of having a seizure it’s illegal to drive until you’re cleared by a neurologist. He told me to stop binge drinking and robotripping and I’m gonna follow up with a neurologist.

also I’m getting flu tested so hopefully I don’t have the flu

today could be considered an all time high for my mental health. I took myself to the ER because I needed to go get checked out by a doctor, that’s a big deal. I’m used to just keeping mostly everything to myself until it’s unbearable. I called out of work to prioritize my health.

the guy who laughed about my seizure, I told him “if u ever see someone have a seizure again call an ambulance cuz they can kill u just saying 💀”

bc I have cptsd and have experienced CN , I find it hard and unnecessary at times to take care of myself , bc my mom found it unnecessary.

so I starve myself . I wasn’t good enough to be protected as a kid , why would I give myself energy and nutrients if I don’t have to? when I can show everyone how hurt I am inside? I won’t be satisfied until everyone sees and begs me to eat again.

until they know how good I look is manual, it’s compulsive, ritualistic and intentional. It’s not good enough to be naturally skinny. It takes a certain kind of fucked up to track your way to skin and bones, and to feel perfect and beautiful and ethereal for doing so.

I know my time to shine isn’t over, but I have to lose this weight so everyone can see. I’m gonna start posting more here

[metamorphosisme]

Curls hair, puts on makeup, and new dress to pick up my man. Not only does he not acknowledge me at all but as soon as we get home he jumps in the shower then half way threw calls me over. "Me and our daughter are going over ***s house for a bbq idk how many people is gonna be there but there will be kids ectect" after I say ok and a long pause he goes "you can come if you want"... I just said it ok and made up the excuse for taking care or the baby. I just had that gut feeling that he didn't want me there, it sucks, I thought I looked ok even though I gained 5lbs back... I just wanted to feel... alright? ... anyway Then right before I leave he goes "what did you do today?" I said worked, nothing why? He goes "you smell like a dog I keep gagging.".... broke my fucking heart dude... he did ask for a kiss but then left... back for another binge once he was gone... im so fucking sad man and if I show him I'm sad he gets mad it's so ridiculous.

When he gets home I'm sleeping on the couch and I open my eyes, he looks down at me and says "why do you have that fucking face on for already". Like 😭😭 legit all I did was open my eyes.... I just went upstairs away from him he was obviously drinking.. he's been drinking for about 3 or 4 months straight everynight.. only 6 16oz millers but the "only" is me trying to tell myself it's ok because he works.... how am I supposed to tell him to kick something when I can't even cut down my fucking eating... ive gained 5 pounds in 2 weeks. I legit feel like the fat I can see in my face, and my stomach is puffed out, like I see it and maybe that's why he's being mean to me again.... ha... another thing we were sitting on the couch he ate this peanut butter thing and threw half on a napkin on the table, time goes by so I broke a piece off to try and he looked at me horrified, " just because I didn't eat it doesn't mean I wanted you too"..... you think it would have been a sign...

Idk if he only likes me when I'm skinny because I only like me when I'm skinny but mam screaming sick kids, his bipolar / drinking, + trying to work and running a fucking house and running everywhere the fuck else everyday is tough man... I just wanna be happy so bad. My doctor just puts me on any new medication that's on the market, my therapist said I need a psychiatrist and a nutritionist, the psychiatrist won't call me back and the doctor shit needs to be done in secret because my man doesn't believe in that.... (he went to my doctor for his bipolar and he almost killed himself multiple times from the meds..) I've been debating ozemp or the off brands but I'm seeing A LOT of people having suey thoughts on it, it's like a whole underground thing nobody is talking about and it's not like self ouchy it's like felt so low one day did some crazy shit and is now in a coma... idk man I just don't know... I just ordered elevate from avantera to see if maybe that helps with my compulsions. I don't have add as far as I know because I can take an addi and feel my body pick up... could be wrong but I've always heard if you have add and you take one you get slow so trail and error I don't believe that's my case.. oy idk now im rambling to my damn self.. Hopefully I'll read this later and maybe it will give me the strength to be strong and not give in. Eating helps for a moment like a drug but the reprocussions of it are just foul... oh ha and side note deff the weight plus my sugar cuz I'm back to being in pain.. again omad I'm done I can't go on like this... lol no eating was so easy when I was able to just work and sleep all day haha now add having to make 10 meals a day not for yourself and everyone eating different shit on top of daily stress and cleaning... lol whole shit is wild...

[cryptid-kay]

How I Write

BEHOLD another post about writing.

I actually had this idea a while ago, but wasn't sure exactly how to go about it. Still aren't so we're just gonna put it all here and hopefully it's readable.

So how I write.

The backstory [skip if you want]:

During my college years, I had a wonderful professor in my advanced comp class who introduced us to the idea that we all wrote differently. Not just in words, but in process. This idea was revolutionary. Why? Because I grew up with the whole "you must outline on paper your essay and write for me all the bullet points and I must SEE how you're going to logically make this make sense before you ever begin."

I hated it. Hated essays.

Then this random man who always wore bowties on Wednesdays and shamelessly pushed us to do our best, not to meet deadlines or grades, appeared in my life. Sorry, no, he wasn't the doctor, but bowties ARE still cool.

What I learned, however, is that every person has a different process. I specifically, for essays, draft in my head, sometimes I sticky note draft for multiple sources, and then I write it all down and revise. Some of my classmates would just write it down and revise over and over and over.

But this is all background, because what I want to talk about specifically is my process of novelling. I have lots of people ask me how I can churn out a 50-100K novel in about 1-2 months, and my goal with this post is to both answer that, and also to remind people that my process does not have to be your process. [end of backstory]

So this is how I write.

Conception of the Idea This is the part that I can't really attribute a process to. Inspiration and ideas come to me in various ways. Short stories are easiest because I can just take a trip into pinterest and find a few interesting images which inspire me to write, but for novels, the idea really needs to stick. I wish I could outline a process here as this is probably the part most authors struggle with, but unfortunately...I just listen to lots of music, read lots of books, and scroll pinterest a lot and sometimes I get an idea.

Planning/Plotting THIS however, this part I can begin to explain. So, I have an idea. It's a good one. I'm going to say this now: I do not usually know how my books are going to end when I start writing. I do not plot. Except I do. My process for planning is one of two: The first: I do not plan anything except preliminary details (i.e. MC's name, role in the story, who the major characters are, first point of conflict). Once I have these I will write a scene and then another scene and I let the character's drive the story. This works well when I'm embarking on a really large project that I want to explore but am not 100% sure I can commit to, and for original fiction this is usually the route I go to discover if an idea will stick. The second: This is a process I tend to use for "stuck" ideas or more fleshed out ones. I also use this during rewriting and would like to use it more during my real writing and I find it eases some of the pitfalls of the more pantser method I had been using. In this second method I will begin with my stakes, my characters, and their motivations. Decide who wants what and what stands in the way of it. This is best done after fleshing out my characters, but can be applied to characters I haven't fully explored as it grants a starting point. Once I've nailed down the stakes, I figure out first how my MC is going to react, then how this is going to get them into trouble. Basically creating for myself a method of raising the stakes through the story. Subplots often crop up here, and sometimes parallel stories. After I finish all of this planning, this is where I start the writing. 3. Drafting Alright, this is where the process gets funnn. This is where we start writing. My process here is pretty simple. I will take a day or two to plan out a chapter in my head. Then I put it on paper. Sometimes it comes out different, but usually as long as I adhere to the major beats of the story, everything is fine. This also helps me break up my stories into chapters that flow into one another. I almost always leave off a chapter either after a major event, in the middle of one, or setting up for one. I treat them like mini short stories of about 2-3K with something important happening in each, even if it's importance isn't clear until the end of the story. I write linearly, so that means start to finish, but by planning out and then writing, I can usually complete a chapter in a writing session. (I plan to write about an hour on my writing days). I admit I do not write daily. I find it burns me out, but I do swap between planning days and writing days, and if I get an idea, I'll write notes. This process is both the simplest, and takes the longest, usually around 30-60 days for about 50-100K. This is in part due to the speed of my writing (around 50-75 wpm), and the fact I plan so I have a clear vision of my chapters before I write them making the writing process faster for me. It also prevents me from burning out so I can write more in a condensed period of time. 4. Revising - Round One I found after rewriting Half Crown last year a new method of revision, which requires some tedium, but ultimately I enjoyed it and am working it into my process. It begins with, while the book is either being alpha read, or just sitting in my folders, I go through the whole book and make a spreadsheet. This spreadsheet is a chapter by chapter breakdown of scenes including: the summary of the scene, characters present, motives, and the major stakes. I also sometimes add notes for things I want to change. This scene breakdown for me was really useful because I could see an easy to read cohesive breakdown, and as a I was summarizing I could find area's to improve the impact of later scenes, current scenes, or spot inconsistencies I'd accidentally worked in. It also helped me keep motive solid thorughout

[aita-retailbraces]

@am-i-the-asshole-official additional context

gonna address a few common things i saw along the comments.

"yes, you are disabled"

i made that comment as i hadn't realized that a temporary condition could be counted as a disability. which, in hindsight, it does make a lot of sense to count it as such as it's limited what i can do comfortably/without pain.

so i apologize if i had offended anyone or made it seem like i was brushing off disabilities. that was not my intent when i had added that into my ask, but i can see how it was interpreted to be said in poor taste.

"talk to management about this"

since sending this ask, i spoke to one of my mangers but she'd need a proper doctor's note. she mentioned that she can prioritize me going on self checkout (thus using my hands less), so hopefully it'll help.

currently, though, not much can be done outside of that. we're too short-staffed to have one of my coworkers consistently bag for me, and not everyone is willing to trade their self checkout shifts with me.

i also worry that i may lose hours due to this, but my manager assured me that i wouldn't.

"go see a doctor"

very long (and personal) story as to why that's a bit tough for me at the moment. as some have inferred, im from the US. and i'm sure that's all that needs to be said about that as to why it's difficult.

but i've been wanting to for a while, so it'll be something i bring up once i finally get the chance.

"this can get you in trouble"

which is why, even if the majority says i wouldn't be TA, i wouldn't say anything to customers beyond my usual light encouragement. i've been doing that for at least a month or two, and if a customer refuses, i end up bagging anyway. some don't even realize they can bag and have assumed that bagging may get me in trouble, which is why i started saying it in the first place.

i can't really afford to jeopardize my job, but i have been looking into other departments i could switch into that may give me more of a break in between tasks.

as it's hotter outside, though, i've been wearing more short sleeves which brings additional attention to the braces i have. i haven't really noticed it making a difference. but, because i need to go slower, people end up leaving my line to go to a (perceived) quicker one.

----

if more context is needed or you have any further questions, i'm happy to provide. but i think this covers the majority of what i've been seeing in the comments. thanks to everyone who voted and especially those that left a comment, i appreciate the additional insight provided with those.

WIBTA for asking customers to help out at work and use my wrist braces as the reason?

this is probably a nothingburger of an aita submission, but it's been nagging at me ever since i started to wear them. submitting this 05/18 and tagging @aita-retailbraces for my own reference. TLDR is at the bottom.

i (20F) have recently gotten wrist braces as i've had consistent pain in my wrists and hands for a few weeks now. my mom has chalked it up to being tendonitis or overusage of my hands and i do several things in my professional and personal life that may worsen my hands' condition. so this is very likely, and as it's just an inflammatory/overusage thing, i do not consider this pain to be a disability by any means.

my primary job is working in retail as a cashier for a grocery store. one of my expected tasks is to bag customers' groceries. however, as customers are allowed to bag their own, i try to encourage them to do so.

before getting the braces, i'd usually mention that they can grab a bag and would use the reason that it's faster (especially if the line is long). but a lot of customers tend to react rudely if i suggest this, whether it's just glaring at me the rest of the time or openly stating why they don't want to do that. but lately, i've been considering using my braces and wrist pain as a reason as to why they should bag. i've been trying to hide them since getting them but my wrists/hands have been hurting even with the braces, and having to bag a lot of heavy groceries doesn't help in the slightest.

why i think i'd be the asshole:

i don't consider myself disabled and i'd worry that it'd come across as lying and saying that i am if i blame my pain and/or wrist braces as to why i prefer not to bag.

disabled coworkers of mine don't try to pass off their work onto customers or use it as an "excuse" to not do what's expected of them. so it may feel like a cop-out for me while they do their work with minimal complaints or attempts to pass it off to another.

i CAN bag even when my hands/wrists are in pain, i just go slower.

additional context, if needed:

i cannot ask coworkers for assistance as we're relatively short-staffed. there have been multiple days where i'd be the only cashier for hours at a time.

i'm not actively refusing to bag groceries. if a customer doesn't want to, i suck it up because i have little choice.

i don't try and push off the responsibility if a customer is elderly or mentions they have a disability and cannot bag themselves. i've got quite a few who have mentioned shoulder pain and not being able to lift their arm above a certain height.

i use my hands/wrists a lot outside of work. the wrist braces were not purchased with the intent of faking my pain nor do i only wear them at work.

TLDR

i'm expected to bag customers' groceries at my job but try to encourage them to do it themselves, and am considering using my wrist pain/braces as a more "valid" excuse to try and convince them to bag.

[agelustco]

This is gonna change everything!!

Bullshit, well maybe it will but probably it will only shift some shit around, clear some space and help you make the next best move. So, yep this is gonna change everything and change is everything.You may be asking yourself, WTF is she going on about. Or for fuck sake, get to the point. So I will.

As we get older, shit changes, period. What used to work doesn’t. As much as we try to “keep it together” we start to notice where we are falling apart, a little bit. Maybe it’s strength, speed, libido, tolerance, hair texture or just not knowing who the kids are talking about these days. Our capacity for, fill in the blank, is becoming limited, and this may be by design. It may be that we are noticing the freedom of our history, not from our history.

Our lives and relationships become categories, an existential budget where we get to decide what we have the funds for. Now, I am not talking directly about money, although money can be the focus of the “budget”, it can also be energy, bullshit, orgasms, size, hot flashes. The point is that you know what those categories are.

The beauty of the internet is that there are so many fucking answers. Take this supplement, see your doctor, take an ice bath, take a sauna, a hot bath, cold will rob your chi, dry brush, hydrate, sleep, eat, fast you get the idea. The more you look for the right answers, the more you have more questions.

Make it make sense.

I say it time and time again (hopefully you can hear me clapping), you are the expert of your body, your lived experience. Does this mean that you have all of the answers, nope. Does this mean that your ideas are not sometimes clouded by opinions and stories, nope. What it does mean is that you know when something is not “right,” something is “off,” getting to that something, expanding, may require guidance and support. This is what coaching and the Msitresses of the Menopausal Mind was all about. Hell, this is what it means to be a doula, a nurse, a sponsor if you’re a friend of Bill’s.

It has been five years since I have been learning and sharing about perimenopause, menopause, and postmenopause, not only as a nurse and provider, but also as someone going through this transition. This journey is far greater than hot flashes, metal mouth, lower libido, and night sweats. This is about money, sex, intimacy, self definition, bodies, strength, reclaiming and moving forward, finding fertile years to come.

As part of The Mistresses, experts talked to us about money, human design, sex, health and movement. At the end of this past year some folks started hormones, some got dream jobs, others felt that their intimate lives improved, one created changed the way their industry cares for folks. Friendships were made, people felt safe and started to share their experience with others in their circles. The Mistresses did in fact change everything. I changed too.

I realized that the Mistresses needed to grow. Initially, the program had no real direction. There were amazing salons, wonderful conversations, and people were very self-directed as far as what they wanted to accomplish with their experience, but there were no clearly defined "goals". It was also very long. My time budget was getting leaky with the 6 month blocks.

I decided to mentally write a SOAP note while I was in the shower, where most great ideas occur. A SOAP note is a guiding document to let people who are providers, nurses and therapists know what the pain point is, what the blocks are, name the issue and come up with a plan. In community, we can all have different pain points and find the correct solution for ourselves. We just need the right tools, and I have a ton of tools in my badunkajunk trunk.

Bringing clarity to the meno-morphosis with expert lead tools. In place of six months, this is eight weeks, instead of ten meetings, we will have five. In the end, you will be able to develop a plan, find solutions, and experience expansive lustful aging. A new adventure called Agelust Labs has been created.

The Agelust Labs program integrates science and spirit into a format that reframes the menopausal mindset. With the help of five insightful expert-led workshops, you will leave with a personalized blueprint for navigating the lush meno-morphosis.

Five interactive Zoom workshops

Evidence based tools

A video library of 10 expert session

Workbook

A choose-your-own-adventure-style plan of action that you can put into action or take to your provider.

This could change everything. There's no doubt this will be a great event!

Please check out the mastermind tab at privatepartsofwellness.com and if you have any questions, please ask.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

A Family Of Cats & Spiders 🤍 | Post NWH Series P.8 FINALE

Contains spoilers for Spider-Man NWH

Catch up on parts 1-7 -> Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Read the previous series in association

Characters & Pairings: Tobey!Peter Parker x female!reader/Black Cat (romantic), Benny Parker OC, Harry Parker OC, Mary Jane Watson x John Jameson, Gwen Stacy, J. Jonah Jameson

Content warnings: pregnancy, labor & birth. Profanity, implications of sex. Flirtatious banter & sexual tension. | Female reader (she/her)

Premise: It’s been a long nine months for the Parker family with the anticipating arrival of a new member. Peter has taken a break as Spider-Man, Y/n put Black Cat in the past & their twin sons are eager to take on the mantle of New York’s crime fighting superheroes. They’ve had quite the journey and while some chapters come to an end, new beginnings are in store for Queens’ favorite family.

Note: WE’VE COME TO THE END !! 😭🥺 This is the final part of ‘Family Of Cats & Spiders’!! I can’t believe it’s already the end. It’s been about two and a half weeks since I started this series and I can’t believe I already finished it. I’m so happy with how this turned out and thank you all for being patient about updates and sending me feedback. I really enjoyed writing this & while I’m sad it’s completes, this is not the end of Peter and Black Cat!reader because the prequel series is coming! It will follow the events of Tobey!Peters movies and I already have an idea of how it’s going to go. After all I have hinted on many things in this series and my first one. Hope you enjoy this final installment of ‘Family of Cats & Spiders’ and I’ll see you again in the prequel! 🤍

——————————

“Peter—P-Peter, get up,” Y/n moaned, throwing the covers off and sitting up against the couch cushions behind her. For the past two weeks as her due date approached, Y/n and Peter had been sleeping on the pull out couch in the living room. It was easier for the pregnant woman—the two sets of stairs becoming a little difficult with the passing days.

Her hand shot out to shake her husband, feeling him stir, “Babe, it’s time. I-I—ooo, shit—I can feel it.” Suddenly Peter shot up—feeling his spidey-senses tingle, spinning around to see Y/ns distressed state. “Baby Parker is all baked in the oven—t-their ready to get out.”

He leaned over to see the clock hanging read ‘1:40 AM’ making him spring from the mattress. “O-okay, here darling let me help you.” Peter moves over to her side, placing a hand on her back to guide her to hang her legs off the bed before lifting his hand, “you stay there and hang tight. I’m gonna wake the boys up and grab the hospital bag.” Once she nods—steadying her breathing—Peter races up the stairs and first enters Benny’s room to wake him before doing the same to Harry.

“Benny I need you to go start the car while Harry you keep mom company—make sure the cats have enough food and water and then we’ll help her to the car.”

“On it, dad.” They both said between yawns and carefully went down the stairs while Peter went to the master bedroom to retrieve the packed hospital bag. He should’ve left it downstairs, but honestly with everything happening the thought slid past him.

The twins both went to the kitchen to refill the cat bowls. Once that was finished, Benny fetched the car keys from the counter before heading out the door and Harry took a seat on the mattress next to Y/n. “You doing okay, mom? Ready to pop the newest spider out?”

“Oh yeah,” she chuckled with a wince, the contraction hitting her, “Hopefully they come quick—I don’t think I’ll handle being in labor for several hours. You boys were stubborn and kept me in the hospital for almost forty before the doctors finally broke my water.”

Harry let out a laugh, “oops, what can we say—we take after you with wanting to make an entrance.”

“That’s for sure.”

Benny came back in announcing the car was ready, handing the keys to Peter who had just returned from the bedroom after changing his clothes and grabbing the hospital bag. “Here put this in the trunk,” he handed the bag to his son before adding, “and if you two want to change real quick then do it now. Who knows how long we’ll be there—might as well be comfortable.”

“Oh I’m cozy,” Harry gestured to his fluffy Star Wars pajamas, “Nothing better than going to a hospital in my jammies.” Benny on the other hand changed out of his flannels and opted for a plain pair of sweatpants with his Yankees shirt and beanie.

Y/n could change if she wanted too—but felt her silk maternity nightie was the best option since she would be in a hospital gown for the entire labor & birth. “Harry go get me my robe—it’s hanging behind the bathroom door.” The teenager did as told, disappearing up the stairs.

“How you feeling, Y/n.” Peter knelt down so he was level with her legs, placing his hands on her calves to rub smooth circles. “Are the contractions close? Or several minutes apart?”

She adjusted herself, sighing when the latest pain faded slightly. “Not too close—I would say eight to ten minutes, so still preterm thankfully.” Y/n gave Benny a smile when he brought her a water bottle from the fridge, thanking him while uncapping it to take a sip. “Water hasn’t broken yet, but you know that can happen at any moment. Did you call the Dr. Westbourne?”

“I did right before I changed,” he tells her, taking the bottle when she hands it over to put on the coffee table they’d pushed against the wall. “She said she’s on the way and will have the room ready for when we get there.”

That made her relieved. Harry showed up a second later with her rob in hand. With the help of Peter and Benny, they gently helped Y/n off the mattress—Peter assisting with the rob and tying a know to keep it in place. “I guess it’s time to get a move on them,” Y/n said with a nervous smile. Hand in Peters, the man guided her out the door with their sons in tow. “You know you boys don’t have to come,” she said while she attempted to get in the passenger seat of the car—Peter helping her get comfortable, “—labor can take hours. Dad could always come get you after.”

“Nah mom we want to be there ,” Harry said with excitement, buckling his seatbelt. “You guys finally made us older brothers—it is our brotherly obligation to be there for the arrival of baby Parker.”

“Yeah,” Benny agrees mid-yawn. “I don’t mind sleeping in a hospital chair of a waiting room. We’re here for your support.” Y/ns heart melted at that, blessed to have two wonderful sons. Their little family really was her rock—and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have it. Despite all her wrongdoings in the past and some of the decisions she made, Y/n managed to find a diamond in an ocean of sand.

The drive to the hospital consisted of blasting 90s music on the radio to distract Y/n from her contractions. It was quiet the sight—even Harry smuggling his phone out to record a video. Y/n was doing a little dance in her seat—one hand up while the other on her belly, moving her shoulders with her eyes closed and just feeling the beat. Although every now and then her face would consort in a grimace.

Harry posted the video on his Snapchat story with the caption ‘When you’re in labor, but mentally in a club 🕺🏻’

“Oooo—shit,’ she hissed when the tightness felt stronger than ever, “I did not miss this part. Fuck I’d rather get thrown out of a window again. I can’t believe you did this to me again,” Y/ns head fell against the side of the seat to look at Peter. It was a joke and he was aware of that—Y/n had said something similar nearly seventeen years ago.

His eyes flickered to her, amused by the words. “If I recall, you said ‘it takes two to tango’ so it’s not entirely my fault, Cat.”

“You’re always look so delicious it’s like you want me to constantly jump your—-.”

“Please don’t,” Harry groaned from the backseat, “It’s too early for this shit.” Benny had long ago put his headphones in so his ears were spared from the conversation happening. Harry regretted not bringing his.

The arrived at the hospital ten minutes later. Peter told one of the boys to grab a wheelchair while the one who stayed helped him get Y/n out of the car. Once she was seated in the chair, Peter grabbed the hospital bag from the trunk. Harry pushed the wheelchair with the others following behind him and together they all entered the hospital.

Inside Peter lead them to the elevator so they could head to the level where Dr. Westbourne had prepared their room for the duration of the labor and delivery. They were lucky the hospital had the type of rooms where Y/n didn’t have to be moved. She had been cleared at the last appointment for natural delivery after her test results and examinations went well.

But she was still going to take the epidural—no question on that.

When they got the level and signed in, the family was surprised the twins would be able to stay in the room during labor. It was a room designed for a family to stay while the mother and baby were housed for the time being, but they’d have to be in the waiting room when it came time to deliver.

A nurse came around to wheel Y/n to the room. Peter assisted helping Y/n get in the bed—the twins moving to the corner where a couch was so they were out of the way. It was a very spacious room with the bathroom only a few paces from the bed. They had a large window overlooking Queens and could see the Manhattan skyline.

Once Y/n was situated and in a hospital gown, the nurse started an IV, checked her vitals, and hooked her up to the machine monitoring the contractions. They were closer together—almost five minutes apart and Y/ns water still needed to break.

She prayed it would be soon because then baby Parker would be right behind it.

After checking her dilation, the nurse informed her the epidural was being prepared and Dr. Westbourne would be with them shortly. They thanked the nurse, watching her leave the room with the clipboard—shutting the door behind her.

“Doing okay, honey?” Peter pulled his chair closer to the bed, taking her hand in his.

She blushed when he bought her knuckles to his lips to press a soft kiss. Y/n nodded tiredly, eyes fluttering a bit, “As best as I can. It’s just the waiting game you know.”

“I know, darling.” Y/n went to reply, when she suddenly gasped causing her eyes to draw to her lower half. There was a sensation of tightness followed by the feeling of liquid pooling. Peter looked alarmed, “Are you okay—what happened?”

“Well I think my water finally broke,” she chuckled, relieved it had finally happened. The last thing she wanted was to be in labor for hours upon hours. Now she hoped they would have their baby in her arms before the sun rose. “Westbourne will be happy to hear that.”

Speaking of the doctor, there was a knock to the door before it opened—revealing Dr. Westbournes familiar face. The woman smiled at the family, a file in her hand and closed the door behind her. “I heard baby Parker was ready to make their appearance. How are we feeling, Y/n?”

“Water just broke, doc,” Y/n replied, “I’m sure of it.” Westbourne walked over and gently lifted the gown—sure enough there was liquid by Y/ns private area.

“I’ll send for a nurse to change the sheets and get you a new gown,” Westbourne draped the gown back to it’s original place. “There’s no saying how long labor will be, but considering this isn’t your first pregnancy I feel it shouldn’t take long. Once you’ve had one baby—or in your case two—labor and deliver generally is quicker than the last. We’ll keep eyes on your dilation and I’m gonna go check on the epidural. We’d want to administer it before you reach seven centimeters and right now you’re at four.”

After a few more words of exchange, Westbourne took her leave but a nurse entered just a few minutes later. Luckily Y/n needed to pee so Peter helped her to the bathroom along with a fresh gown while the nurse changed the sheets. Y/n was then hooked back to the machines after reliving herself, doing her best to get comfortable.

The contractions were getting closer together, the pain becoming more intense. About thirty minutes after checking in with them, Westbourne returned with another doctor who had the epidural. Y/n didn’t even flinch with the thick needle entered her lower back, sighing in relief when she felt the numbness kick in. “Now that feels nice.”

Soon the exhaustion took over Y/n, yawning every few minutes until Peter eventually told her to get some sleep. She was now five centimeters and still had a long way to go. “Only if you cuddle me,” she said with a wink, moving to the side so there was enough room for Peter to join her.

“Anything for my darling.” Peter took off his jacket, placing it on the back of his chair and falling to his side so he could wrap his arm around Y/ns bump—careful of all the wires attached to her. Y/n stayed on her back, the most comfortable position for her and leaned her head against Peters shoulder—bringing her hand up to lay on his.

“Ready to start over, babe?” She teased, drawing lazy cicles over the back of his hand.

Peter chuckled, kissing her temple, “I’ve been ready for nine months. The moment you told me we’d be having another little one I was ready. I can’t wait to raise another baby with you, Y/n.”

“I can’t wait either,” she nuzzled against him, loving the warmth she was feeling. “Hopefully this one sleeps—unlike those two,” she playfully said while gesturing to the twins. Harry made a sound of offense, while Benny was slumped against the couch already asleep with his headphones in. “We got many late nights ahead of us, stud.”

“Well why don’t you try to get some sleep while you can,” Peter gently ran a finger through her white hair, spinning a strand around it. “I’ll wake you if the doctor comes in or if you feel something then tell me. We’ll be right here.”

With that, Y/n let her eyes flutter and mind drift off. Peter continued to play with hair—something she loved, which lulled her to a somewhat comfortable sleep even though she could feel slight pressure building in her lower half. A sign baby Parker was on their way.

Harry had turned the Tv to a low volume. Some random show played since there wasn’t much on at nearly two-thirty in the morning. Peter barely paid attention, checking over Y/n and the monitors every now and then.

About another thirty minutes went by before Westbourne returned. She checked Y/ns dilation—noticing she had jumped from five to eight centimeters, so she told Peter it would probably be within the hour Y/n could be delivering. Her dilation had increased drastically since her water broke.

And again, this wasn’t her first rodeo.

“Have you guys already picked out a name?” Harry asks his father, munching on a bag of cheese itz he had brought. “I know you guys decided to not know the sex, but did you at least decide on possible names?”

“We did,” Peter confirmed, “We have a few options.”

“What are they?”

“It’s a surprise,” Peter smirked which made the teen groan. “It will all depend when they get here. We may have a name in mind, but that can change when we see them. It’s common for people to switch the name they originally had once the baby is born.”

“I kinda hope it’s a girl,” Harry mused, “It’d be nice to have a little sis. I would maybe get ladies if I was spotted out with—okay I won’t do that,” he corrected himself when Peter gave him a pointed look. “It would still be fun though. Plus mom would have heir for Black Cat.”

Peter stops him there with narrowed eyes, “L-let’s not talk that far into the future, Harry. I don’t think I’m ready to think about my possible daughter being a vigilante just yet. If she wants to be when she’s grown up, then I will support it—but let’s make sure she has a normal childhood first.”

Harry scoffs, a laugh following, “Dad, regardless if the baby is a boy or girl it’s not going to have a ‘normal’ childhood. Not when you got Spider-Man and Black Cat as your parents.” Peter motions for him to keep his voice down, looking toward the door and listening for anyone passing by. The last thing they needed was for the entire world to find out their identity—especially after witnessing what an alternate version of Peter had to go through.

“Well,” he said when he was confident no one had heard Benny, “we can at least do our best. It’s what they deserve.”

The two continued to make small talk—Benny waking up a little while later and joining in. They mostly talked about school, inventions, and the excitement of the newest Parker baby. The twins had wanted a sibling for a long time. Although they are going to have a large age gap, they were determined to be the best older brothers they could be. Both hoped to teach their younger sibling about science and technology—maybe even play baseball or soccer.

Of course if they were blessed with a younger sister, she would be so protected. Any boy coming her way would have to be careful. Harry again made another Black Cat joke much to Peters displeasure—even Benny backing his dad up with the concern. “Harry, please don’t make my possible sister know how use a grappling hook before we teach her to ride a bike.”

“No promises, Benz.”

Y/n woke up when it was nearing four o’clock. She had been in labor for nearly three and half hours. The buildup of pressure in her lower half was stronger—not painful because of the epidural, but enough to have discomfort. Peter sensed this and asked if she were okay. Y/n responded with, “Get Westbourne. I-I think baby Parker is ready to come out.”

Peter jumped up from the bed, opening the door to the hallway and turning the corner just in time to see the doctor heading in his direction. When she saw his expression, Westbourne picked up her pace. “Does she feel like she needs to push?”

“I think so.”

They raced back to the room with Westbourne going straight to Y/n—who had sat herself up and was steadying her breathing. “Feel like you need to push, Y/n?” The doctor asked lifting up the gown. What she saw was Y/n fully dilated and beginning to crown. The baby’s head was starting to push through. “Okay, you’re starting to crown—it’s almost go time. Don’t push just yet, Y/n.”

The woman nodded, resisting the urge to relieve the pressure building. Westbourne had to go get the nurses to assist, leading Benny and Harry to the waiting room just down the hall. Both twins gave Y/n a kiss on the cheek, wishing her good luck as they left.

“You ready, Cat,” Peter grabbed Y/ns hand, grin on his face to let the excitement show. It was contagious as it brought a smile to her own face. Her eyes were already becoming glossy at the emotion she was feeling. Nine months of anticipating had finally come to an end.

“More than ready, Spider. Let’s meet our baby.”

It had been twenty years since Y/n L/n became acquainted with Peter Parker. They started off as strangers, then friends all while their costumed alter egos were nemesis on opposite sides of the law. It was like a dark Romeo & Juliet, with Peter being New York’s hero while Y/n was the famed cat-burglar.

For nearly a year they were friends as civilians while fighting each other as Spider-Man and Black Cat. All while they were slowly falling for each other in both of their double lives despite not knowing it was the other the entire time. Then the day came where it was revealed and their lives changed forever.

Y/n became his most trusted ally. She realized there was more to life than breaking and entering—even though she never stole from people who didn’t deserve it. Peter also had to learn that sometimes people do what they do because of the circumstances they’re in. It made him more compassionate when he was on patrol and it helped with Y/n by his side.

Falling in love was natural. They had already started to feel something for each other as civilians, knowing the alter ego that reminded them of each other just confirmed their suspicious.

A lot of obstacles followed along the way. Heartbreak, drama, tears and anger, but also love, hope, and forgiveness. There were the dark days, but also the ones full of bright light. Yeah they had a break—but it never really meant they were out of each other’s lives. It was time they needed. Something which made them think about who they were and what they wanted. Because then when the time came to come back to each other, they would be ready.

Hope was the day they welcomed Benny and Harry into the world. They day was as beautiful as the moment it was symbolizing. The twins were the breath of fresh air the couple needed. They gave them both the chance to fix their wrong doings—and it was so so worth it in the end.

The family they gained after being so lost on their own. It was a true blessing with nothing but happiness as each day passed by. Spider-Man continued to keep the streets of the city safe while the Black Cat tended to her litter—putting her past of crime and crime fighting behind. They raised two smart and wonderful boys who everyday reminded them of the good in the world.

Reminding them of the diamond they found in an ocean of sand.

Now here they were, twenty years after the Cat first met her Spider, welcoming a newest member of the pack who’d be another symbol of the gift they received. It would be a long journey ahead of them—maybe even a few obstacles here and there. But they would overcome it.

Because that’s who they were. A family of cats and spiders 🤍

————

End note: don’t worry, I’m not gonna just leave you with that. you’ll find out who the newest Parker is with in the bonus chapter coming soon. 😉 sorry to end this series on a cliffhanger, but it’s a bittersweet one considering I’m going to add an extra chapter which I’m already working on and I felt it was fitting with Peter & Y/n. stay tuned and get ready for the prequel coming soon! 🤍

…………………….

Tag list: @secretsthathauntus, @eternalharry, @fuzzyphantomsandwich

[keagan-ashleigh]

I have some new followers so I guess it's time to do another little presentation post 😌

About me

Hi! My name is Keagan, but also Clémentine (my birthname - you can use both, you can call me Clem too). I am currently 34, I live in France (in the south), and I am a graphic designer and illustrator - and hopefully in a couple months aspiring web designer 🤞

I am a proud bisexual & greysexual (I'll often just say "ace").

And I am nonbinary: I think genderfluid - I identify as woman sometimes but many other times this just makes me feel like it's not really me, it doesn't quite fit. I identify sometimes as a woman - I identify with what women experience also, I am a feminist and my experience is one of a woman, and although I don't identify as woman most of the time I feel to be part of it - and most of the time as nothing at all.

Edit, I forgot the pronouns : she/they (elle/iel or ael in french); I don't have preferences, but I've been called "she" all my life and very rarely experienced being addressed with "they" so I'd really like people to use it more. 😊

Also I am disabled: I am autistic - not diagnosed yet but I have just started the process of getting it diagnosed. I also have dyscalculia, and chronic pain (my squeleton is sliiightly crooked, not much but enough to cause me immense pain 🥲 - in knees, back, and hips) - I also have generalised anxiety disorder and depression. And I am short-sighted and I have tinnitus, and a couple other things.

I have been touched by a bitch of a fairy at birth I tell you 😂

I am very open about all of this so if you happen to need someone to talk to about those subjects, I'm here, I can't provide answers but I can share my experiences.

About my blog(s)

I have a blog for my art here: @keagan--ashleigh ; both are me, I've just put an extra dash as to not confuse people when they see 2 usernames interacting with them 😅

I have been on this blue hell since 2012, at first I had an aesthetic blog but it very quickly became a social justice blog, and I created a side blog (this one) for fandoms, at first mainly spn, then BBC Sherlock, and although I kept the title and decorum it returned to its multifandom/multisubjects state.

I also talk about other subjects occasionally, it's not a one-subject blog, I often blog & reblog funny stuff, social justice, etc.

I occasionally post in french but I have associated Tumblr with english strongly - I will maybe introduce a bit more of french in here idk.

I usually liveblogs Eurovision, the past years I have been doing that on Twitter bc it's hard to livetweet and liveblog at the same time but if twitter goes down I'll come back here lmao. And on twitter I also sometimes livetweet Top Chef in french but I might to that in here as well if I can't on Twitter idk - is there an audience for that here idk 😅

Most of my french specific stuff where on twitter, like I said I have associated tumblr with english and international stuff, and I don't know how I'll gonna get my french internet experience back in tumblr, we'll see but maybe you'll see more of my french specific stuff in the future, or I'll make a third side blog idk yet.

Worth to note I have a tagging system on both my blogs - and I tag the spoilers (unless for some reason I forget).

I often vent in the tags - it was, in this regard, better when ops couldn't see the tags in their notifications :o) I feel exposed now 😭

My ask box is always open.

About fandoms and opinions

My fandoms are: BBC Sherlock, Supernatural, Marvel, Our Flag Means Death, What We Do In The Shadows, Good Omens, Doctor Who, etc

My favorite ships: johnlock, destiel, Aziraphale & Crowley, lokius, nandermo, gentlebeard, 13th & Yaz, etc

About opinions and discourses:

I am a ship and let ship kind of person but that doesn't mean I approve of everything. I will never use the terms proshipper/anti because those words have been bastardised and the definition changes everytime I see it show up - so it's better if I just tell you what I like and don't like: I do not like incest ships, I do not like pedo ships, I am not against the fact of writing about those things but I don't like them being romanticised and glorified even. And no I don't think "it's ok because it's fiction" - whether it be fanwork or else what is written or shown in fiction has an impact on the real world, always, in a positive or negative way.

I will not engage in discourses about that though because it is tiring and useless.

I will not engage in ageist discourses either because - yes I think it's stupid to say fun has an end for people when they reach 30 but time will prove ageist people wrong and it's just sound stupid to me to have fights with literal kids over this. I'd rather enjoy my shit in my corner and not bother or be bothered by any of this.

I see a lot of ageism and condescendance from older people as well and I don't like that, being young doesn't mean people's inputs and opionions are wrong. About the fact joy must end at 30, yes, but cutting the discussions short (on various subjects) with "young people are so prude now / they don't enjoy anything/ yadda yadda"... no. No let's not do that. Times are changing and maybe some things we thought were ok then are not ok now and before we shut them up I think maybe we should listen and question what we think is true, let's not become the boomers of this generation ok, let's keep our minds open and be critical of ourselves first, we might at worst expand our worldview. And of course it goes both ways. Respect goes both ways.

At large, I will mostly enjoy my stuff and not engage with negativity, i do not have the mental health to deal with that, if people are wrong let them be wrong in their corners. Not saying I will never engage in any sort of argument but I'd rather stay away from most (especially those 2 I mentioned). I will never stop criticise mofftiss and Sherlock s4 though 😂

I also do not like ship hate.

I am uncomfortable with shipping real people but I am not against it of course do as you please as long as you don't overstep & be rude with the real people you're shipping.

And also, if I see someone implying a real person is "queerbaiting" because they appear queer & bully them into coming out I will virtually slap you in the head, ok, real people don't queerbait, period.

Last thing: I stand with the L, the G, the B, the T, the A, and all the other letters of that beautiful acronym so if you don't include trans people and ace people: please begone. :)

And also I try to be inclusive, I will not overstep and speak above other communities but I will try my very best to listen and forward those people's voices. I will not engage in discussions/arguments I am not meant to be a part of. I will try my best to take my part in making bigots feel unwelcome.

This blog, and all my accounts here and elsewhere are meant to be safe spaces for LGBTQIAP+, POC, disabled people, etc.

About me (again) - hobbies & creation

I happen to make fanarts, and I write fanfics and ficlets, I also do fanplaylists. Writing is one of my hobbies beside drawing, I also do photography, and I have recently started sculpting too. I love creating stuff so I often make little things, like I can sew, craft stuff, I do bullet journaling, etc.

Like I said I'm a professional artist, you'll find all the infos on my other blog but basically : I draw fantasy art, mostly women and feminine people.

I love science (astronomy and astrophysics in particular), arts, cats (I have 4), animals in general, I love music (I have eclectic tastes, I like rock, metal, classic, pop, jazz, etc...), I love to read & watch movies and shows (also eclectic but I love SFFF and horror the most).

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Voilà, I guess it covers the basis of who I am and what this blog is. Welcome and I hope you enjoy the ride (if you don't it's ok, just don't be rude). 🥰

[corysmiles]

Could you believe I actually am back with some Runnaway Experiment WRITING??? :D

This takes place very early on in the story, and gives some more insight into Tommy's life before they escaped (in the comics). Enjoy :D

-------

The experiment was growing years after years, to everyone’s delight. It seemed the first laboratorial human had a decent enough lifespan so that it could be studied in the long run. And so, 14 years, it has been since T0M saw the light of day, and it acted in a similar fashion a 14 year old human would. .

Of course, the many researchers failed to take in consideration an alteration of the most cumbersome. T0M looked human, could understand the english language, followed orders and didn’t complain, asked some questions but the specimen…. was big.

Too big to fit in a human bed.

Too big to fit comfortably in a room.

It went in spurts, which was terrifying the first time. It kept on growing and growing, as scientists hoped it wouldn't take long for it to stop, otherwise, it might lead to a lot of problems. But for the past 2 years, no noticeable change really occurred, which was a relief when the thing was already 25 ft tall. It never seemed to be challenging personality wise, which was a relief, but they still needed to keep him in line.

Hopefully, the Doctor Soot, as well as Doctor Puff took part in daily check ups and made sure he didn’t rebel.

So, every 2 day, they took turns to visit T0M in the room accustomed to its needs.

And both’s reports were excellent! T0M learned more while being as obedient and compliant as ever. Phil couldn’t be more happy with those results.

However, as time went on…. Wilbur failed to mention another kind of teaching he had going on with the subject for the past months.

“And this is called ‘Sadness’.” He held an A3 size paper with a moody smiley drawn on it, the word being written below. “It’s that feeling when our sessions are over and I have to go and you say ‘oh noooo’ in that voice.”

T0M was sitting on his knees in front of him, paying the utmost attention to what Wilbur was showing and saying.

“I hate that one.” He pouted.

“I know,” Wilbur chuckled. “No one likes to feel sad. But it’s a part of life.”

A single hum. Wilbur’s smile turned more sympathetic.

“Do you remember the other ones?” He stood up from his place and put the sheet in one of the dark grey metallic drawers.

T0M nodded, excitedly. He took his hand and poked his fingers as he counted. “ there’s “Happiness”, it’s the good one. And “Disgust”, it’s when I have to eat the weird green stuff.”

“Brocoli”

“That. And then there’s excitement, it’s when I smile real big because you come early.”

Wilbur clapped “Wonderful!” T0M’s eyes were shining stars at every approval from Doctor Soot. Even though T0M’s enjoyment was very appreciated and contagious, but it could be a bit… much, to handle at times.

“Since you understand the basics, I think it’s time for us to start a whole new lesson.” He clapped.

T0M gasped and cheered from the top of his lungs “YEAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”, throwing his arms in the air and effectively making the room shake from the sheer volume of his voice. When he looked back at the scientist, his eyebrows were pinched and the brunette was covering his ears and curled up, almost in pain.

“...Doctor?” He brought his head close to the man who, after making eye contact, scrambled back until he hit the same drawer he put the papers in earlier. T0M looked at him confused, face still too big in Wilbur’s peripheral.

“I… Tom, I appreciate your enthusiasm when we do our lessons, but if you could prevent yourself from screaming, it would be nice.” He tried in the most gentle voice he could muster without it shaking.

“What’s screaming?” T0M asked, crouched so his face was almost on the ground at eye level with him. He brought a hand closer to the doctor who was still breathing heavily. When his head shot to look at the hand, his body on alert, he froze before saying.

“... Is it a moment when I can’t touch you?”

Wilbur’s eyes were locked on the now frozen hand for a good second before returning to T0M, nodding. “Uh, yeah.”

“... Okay.”

The hand retracted in the following seconds, and soon, he was back in his initial position.

The doctor thanked before regaining his composure. He looked back at T0M, and his expression held remorse. A guilt twisted Wilbur's guts at the view. Thing is, as T0M grew up, people quickly realised he was the equivalent of clingy. He would constantly grab people into hugs and had a hard time keeping his voice down which resulted in a large noise blocker investment. And so they had a rule. T0M couldn’t make any sort of physical contact with anyone without being given explicit permission first. Obviously, most workers considered T0M as a test subject and therefore, wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

Wilbur, though, was not in the same vein. Once he realised how empathic and emotional and human T0M was, he started teaching him things a human teen should need, and started giving him a sort of affection a human teen should have. Which included some sort of physical affection.

When T0M was sad, he would sit next to him or pat his back. It quickly evolved as Wilbur accepted being held by the boy and brought to eye level as long as he was careful when doing so, and ever later, they would hug and wilbur would try to brush his hair at times.

Still, that didn’t make him immune to any of T0M’s carelessness which’s consequences were amplified ten fold due to his scale.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked pitifully.

“I- no, it’s not your fault. It can just be a bit overwhelming is all.” Wilbur explained.

“... what does that mean?”

“It means… when something is ‘too much’. Like when you want to bring Techno very close, but he keeps reminding you about the rule.”

“Oh.” T0M let his head fall. “... I don’t like that.” Wilbur scratched his head. “I want to be so close and show that I’m very happy and it’s all inside and I can’t let it out.”

“Well, here, it’s a bit more of the opposite. When outside, there is a lot and you’re incapable of letting it in.”

“... I’m sorry Wilbur” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, I’m not angry.” reassured the brunette. “I just have sensitive ears.”

“...Everyone has sensitive ears.”

“Well, when you’re a small guy like me, you’re sensitive on pretty much all fronts.”

“... It’s not fair.”

“What’s that?” Wilbur perked.

“When I stop getting big and strong, I want to hug you with all of my will. Like you do with me. It feels nice. I want you to feel nice just like that. I want you to be overwhelmed with happiness. I want to hug you so, so bad but I can't and it's shit. I don't want to be strong, I hurt you if I’m strong. I want to hug you."

Tommy vented, more to himself, and when he looked at Wilbur, his eyes shined, not with joy.

"Oh Tommy…."

It ached. It ached Wilbur to his core that something as simple as a hug was something he craved and still couldn't get. Because he knew. He knew all of the things T0M was missing out on. All the life he could have lived if he was granted freedom. How much he could live and appreciate. It kept him awake at night.

But he was here. Trapped. In a room barely tall enough to contain him, treated like a circus monster. And the worst thing was, T0M wasn't aware of it. Of all the life he wasn't living. How his life was no life and how he thinks this absence of everything is what life should be.

Plato would probably laugh in his grave.

"I promise you. One day, you will be able to do that. I promise you that I'll find a way for you to hug me just like you are a small man too. I promise you that I'll make you discover all of those joys of life, Tom. I Promise you. I will help you. And I'm sorry for not being able to provide it sooner. And I'll apologize for all the years it took for me to get it."

They stared at each other, and Tommy nodded, throat tight and eyes wet.

"And a promise makes sure that it's gonna happen." T0M croaked.

"Exactly, tom." Wilbur smiled. "You are going to live many more things."

The bell rang, and both faces fell a bit.

"I'll see you in 4 days, Tom. We're gonna have a little recap over the emotions you learned and then I'll teach you about relationships."

"Oohh, that sounds nice! What is it?"

As Wilbur packed his little bag, he looked at T0M and simply replied "it's all around you. But I'm not gonna spoil the next session. On that note, I wish you a nice week, Tom."

"Have a nice week, Wilbur! " T0M waved with a smile. "It's nice talking to you."

"It is my absolute pleasure, Tom."

And thus, they parted. As Wilbur walked down the immense corridor (just tall enough Tom could run through them.) He wore a satisfied smile. His small steps resonated, the only sound in the room, yet peaceful enough for his ears to listen to them as carefully as silence. Halfway through, the sound was doubled.

"Helloooo."

"Oh, hey techno! How are you?"

"Doing fine. You seem very happy."

"I am. I made some good progress with T-he subject. I feel like he's learning well. The next tests should have fabulous results."

"Ahh, wonderful. Let's make sure it doesn't learn too much though." He joked.

And at that, Wilbur chuckled, his hand on the man's shoulder. "Oh don't you worry about that, my friend. I can assure you that'll never happen"

"Amazing" techno replied, deadpan. Both nodded their conversation away and walked the rest of their ways.

As he got further away, the doctor's smile turned to an amused grin. His steps resonated, so much smaller than what could be, in a corridor in which the boy just next door should walk through.

"Don't you worry about a single thing."

MEL YES I ADORE THIS AU SO MUCH ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Poor Tommy but at least Wilbur is helping him :”]

[holidaywishes]

Dusk Till Dawn

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: 22 of the music prompts with Matthew Tkachuk please? “but you’ll never be alone / i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn” (dusk till dawn, zayn & sia) for @chuckythepest

  Warning: fluff, maybe some angst, soft smut (I’ll be honest, I changed my mind about having a bit of smut in here or not and it’s not much but it’s there, so...)

  Author’s Note: I’m sorry it’s taken me a little bit longer to write but hopefully it gives you what you’re looking for. I’ve never listened to this song so much in my life; I had it playing on repeat as I wrote this so I could really get a feel of what to write. My friend is a huge Matthew Tkachuk fan, really a huge Flames fan in general, but I have to admit I had to watch a lot of interviews to get a feel for the guy. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be an angsty fic or a fluffy one because the song kinda has both vibes so honestly, it’ll be an adventure for the both of us. If you enjoyed this one, here’s the entire list of prompts. Feel free to send your requests through! Stay Golden, loves <3! 

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  You had been on a vacation with a few of your friends in Cancun for about a week when you got the news that everything was going into lockdown

  “What does this mean?” your friend, Beth, asked as she paced around the hotel room

  “It means that everyone has to stay inside for a bit” you said

  “No, what does that mean for us?” she asked again

  “I guess it means that we have to isolate when we get home” another of your friends, Jenna, replied as she dropped onto the bed

  “I wouldn’t have left if I knew we were gonna come back to a total nationwide, international lockdown!” Melanie, your childhood friend shouted frantically

  “Okay, everyone calm down...” you sighed, “we knew this was a possibility, as much as we might want to say that we didn’t, we knew that we could get home and everything would be shut down”

  “So what do we do?” Beth asked

  “We...” you stammered, not having the answers but trying your best to stay calm, “we listen. We do what we’re told -- isolate, quarantine, get tested, all of it -- and then hopefully it’ll be over soon.” Your words were like a curse because as soon as you got back to St. Louis, the world seemed crazier than it ever was. Months went by and nothing changed. People were still getting sick, still dying, and there were still people who thought it was all a hoax. Birthdays were spent apart, friends stopped making an effort to keep in touch and it made everything feel... cold and sad. The only thing that seemed to make any sense was your friendship with Matthew.

  “What’s up kid?” he texted one day after a particularly hard week and you just about broke down in front of your phone screen

  “I lost my job...” you sent back

  “Ah shit, I’m sorry”

  “It’s fine but thank you”

  “It’s not fine”

  “I mean, no, but it’s not like it’s just me. Half of the world has lost their jobs”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to be all fine about it”

  “Matt, seriously, it’s fine”

  “You say that now and then two days from now you’ll get pissed about someone else getting promoted”

  “I wouldn’t do that”

  “Not on purpose but stress can do things to a person...”

  “I’ll be fine but thank you for caring so much”

  “Anytime!” you smiled at his concern before changing the subject, checking in with his family, asking him about what was going to happen with the season, “I have no idea... everything is still shut down until further notice”

  “I hope things get better by Christmas”

  “At the rate things are going, I don’t think they will”

  “Way to stay positive, Tkachuk” you scoffed to yourself

  “It’s what I do 😜” the conversation didn’t last long after that and you went on a spiral of looking and applying for jobs; everything came crashing down when you’re grandpa got sick and you couldn’t visit him. You called the hospital every day, not wanting your grandpa to be alone, but they wouldn’t let you in, ‘protocols’ they said

  “I don’t know what to do, Matt” you sobbed over the phone

  “Relax,” he tried, “we’ll get you in there”

  “They won’t let me in!” you argued, raising your voice in anger, “he’s dying and they won’t let me see him...”

  “I can make sure you see him.”

xx

Matthew’s P.O.V

  You were trying your best to get (Y/N) into the hospital to see her grandpa but it was taking a lot more effort than you thought

  “Please,” you begged the doctor, “he doesn’t have anyone else. She’s not getting any answers and she just wants to see him, even if it’s to say goodbye”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t break the rules for your girlfriend” the doctor replied

  “No--” you stammered, trying to backtrack, “she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend and she wants to see her grandfather”

  “I can’t break protocols for one person. We’re doing everything we can to keep him healthy and if we invite guests inside, it puts our patients at risk,” the doctor explained, “maybe we can set up a Zoom call”

  “If he dies and she isn’t there, she will blame herself for the rest of her life”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice...” you angrily hung up the phone, throwing it to the side while you thought up a plan before calling (Y/N).

  “The doctor said no...” you said solemnly

  “What?” she whimpered, “Matt, he can’t be alone there. In a hospital, he needs to be with people who love him”

  “They said they have protocols,” you added, “but we can sneak in there...”

  “Sneak into a hospital?” she scoffed, “Matthew, we’re not spies. We can’t sneak into a hospital during a pandemic”

  “Just trust me”

  “What happens if we get caught? If we get in trouble?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it”

  “I can’t le--”

  “Just trust me” you interrupted, convincing her that everything would be okay and ending the call. You made your way to the hospital where (Y/N)’s grandpa had been checked into and asked around about how someone could have visitors

  “They’d have to be tested before they came and then retested, temperature checked, when they got here,” a nurse explained, “and then they’d have to sit behind a barrier with a mask on. It wouldn’t be any different than most other places -- we’re following the same guidelines and restrictions, we just have to be 10 times as careful because we have lives at stake”

  “But if a family member did all that, the tests and followed the guidelines, they could come visit?” you asked, feeling like you might be getting close to a solution

  “Hypothetically?” she started, “it’s possible but there would be a time limit. Maybe 10 minutes maximum and even that’s pushing it”

  “I can work with that!” you smiled under your mask and rushed out of the hospital, texting (Y/N) about what needed to be done, the two of you rushing to a testing facility as fast as possible and waited impatiently for the results. When both of your results came back negative, you told her you’d make a call and get her in to see her grandpa; she hugged you tightly before a tear fell from her eye onto your exposed collarbone. “He’s gonna be okay” you whispered

  “Thank you,” she replied, keeping her arms wrapped around your neck, “for doing all this for me”

  “I know how much he means to you” you smiled at her when she finally let go of you, her eyes softening at your words. You and (Y/N) met when your dad was drafted to St. Louis and had been friends ever since, celebrating each others successes as the years went by. Her grandparents raised her after her mom died and her dad took off, she was only six years old; her grandma died two years later so it was (Y/N) and her grandpa against the world. They were inseparable and she would’ve done anything for him -- including letting you sweet talk a group of nurses to get her into a hospital during a global pandemic. You watched as she made her way down the hallway, the lack of visitors and laughter making everything suddenly feel real, she stopped in front of a large glass door clutching onto the coat that she held in her hands as she waited for someone to let her in. A doctor finally let her in but stayed close by, pulling her out after 10 minutes had passed, not a second more, “come on, man,” you begged, “let her have a little bit more time”

  “I can’t” he replied before looking at (Y/N), “I really am sorry.” She nodded at the doctor before looking back toward her grandpa’s room and tucking herself into your side as you made your way out of the hospital. You started to drive her home but after miles of silence, she asked if you could take her to the park where the two of you used to sneak out to

  “Yeah, sure” you agreed, keeping your voice soft and letting her rest her head against the window for the remainder of the ride. When you pulled up in front of the park and parked the car, you looked at (Y/N) noticing a stream of dried tears on her cheeks before she swung open the car door and ran to the swings. She did this every once in a while, tried to ignore her pain and focus on putting a smile on someone else’s face by pretending she was fine. You could always tell that she wasn’t fine but you couldn’t always bring her out of it, “(Y/N)...” you sighed

  “Come on, Matty!” she called, pushing herself on the swing to see how high she could get, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

  “(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...”

  “Why? I wanted to come to the park to play, not to talk,” she challenged, “if I wanted to talk, I would’ve gone home or to your place...” you exhaled as you walked toward the free swing beside her, your eyes following her as they tried to catch a glimpse of her face; trying to gauge whether or not she was crying. She didn’t stay on the swing too much longer, instead choosing to jump onto the Merry Go-Round

  “You’re gonna spin on this now?” you scoffed

  “No,” she answered with a laugh, laying down on the cold metal, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” You obliged, letting the sound of her laughter fill the air while the old playground equipment squeaked below her. As you kept spinning her, you noticed that her once happy laughter had been replaced by whimpers and you fought to slow down the Merry Go-Round

  “(Y/N)?” you asked as you rushed to her, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

  “He’s all alone, Matt...” she cried, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...”

  “Shhh,” you tried to calm her sobs, letting her head fall onto your shoulder, “I’m here”

  “I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” she sobbed

  “You’re not alone...” you whispered and she looked up at you, her eyes flooded with tears, “you’ll never be alone...” you could tell by the way she looked at you that she wanted you to kiss her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, fearing that she was too vulnerable and you’d be taking advantage of her. So, you continued to hold her instead, for as long as she needed but when she lifted her head up from your shoulder to look at you once more, she made the first move, pressing her lips onto yours as dusk set in and the two of you were the only sound either of you could hear. Your lips moved in sync with hers as your hands laid firmly on her sides; rolling her onto her back slowly so she didn’t hit her head. Her hands roamed to the top of your zipper, pushing the slider down before you tore it off your body quickly, leaving her lips for just a second to throw the fabric behind you. As much as you wanted this to happen, you were still being careful and she could feel your hesitation

  “What’s wrong?” she asked

  “Nothing,” you lied, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

  “I know what I’m doing, Matt” she smiled.

xx

  When Matt started to drive you home, you asked him to redirect you to the park the two of you used to go as kids; so you could feel a little less like the world was falling apart

  “Yeah, sure” he said softly before your head fell against the window as you waited for him to pull up to the park. You had managed to keep your crying quiet enough that, when he saw you, Matt was surprised to see the stream of tears on your cheeks. You pressed your lips together before you rushed out of the car toward the old swing set, jumping on and trying to get as high off the ground as possible

  “(Y/N)...” Matt sighed and the tone of his voice was all too familiar so you ignored it

  “Come on, Matty!” you laughed when you called to him, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

  “(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...” he tried but you shook your head. You just wanted to forget what you’d just seen, forget about what was happening, forget that you might have to be alone again and you really didn’t want to be alone again

  “Why?” you urged, “I wanted to come to the park to play not to talk. If I wanted to talk I would’ve gone home or to your place...” he finally walked to the swing next to you and began pumping his legs to meet your height before you could feel him watching you, leading you to hop off the swing and head to the next piece of equipment from your childhood; the Merry Go-Round.

  “You’re gonna spin on this now?” Matt scoffed as he followed you to the metal death trap that you climbed on

  “No,” you replied, chuckling at his question before lying down, your exposed skin meeting the cold metal below you, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” He compressed his lips and did as you asked, spinning you quickly and you laughed as you got increasingly dizzy with every turn before your grandpa’s face popped into your head; tears overcoming you as whimpers left your lips. Matt quickly dug his feet into the ground to stop the Merry Go-Round

  “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” he rushed to you, pulling you close to him, “what happened?”

  “He’s all alone, Matt,” you cried as you remembered your grandpa in the hospital. He was all you had and the idea of him not being with you terrified you, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...” you shook your head frantically at the thought

  “Shhh..” he hushed you, letting your head fall on his shoulder, “I’m here”

  “I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” you sobbed

  “You’re not alone,” he whispered and you felt his body move closer to yours, just to close the space between you, your eyes continuing to brim with tears, “you’ll never be alone.” Whether it was your fear of being alone, of losing the only person who had ever loved you, or if you just wanted to be close to someone, anybody, you looked up at Matt with soft eyes, hoping he’d make a move. But he didn’t. He just held you and, as nice as it was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You lifted your head once more, this time moving your lips closer to his as the sky filled with the dark hues of dusk, his breath brushing across your skin before your lips connected with his. He pressed his hand against your waist as he kissed you slowly, your lips parting just enough for his tongue to inch into your mouth before he shifted his body to lay your back onto the Merry Go-Round, holding your head with his free hand so you didn’t hurt yourself. Your hands found their way to the zipper of his hoodie, sliding it down and pushing the fabric from his arms and he left the kiss just for a second to easily throw away his hoodie, leaning back over you while you waited for him to continue kissing you but he pulled away

  “What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up as he did and you leaned against his back

  “Nothing...” he said but you could tell he was lying, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...” 

  “I know what I’m doing, Matt” you scoffed and he turned his head back to you

  “I know you do,” he smiled, kissing your nose playfully, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to”

  “I want to” you replied, placing your hand on the side of his face to bring him closer to you, pressing your lips against his and twisting his body back on top of yours. You melted into each other, your breathing in sync as you undid the button of his jeans, setting him free before his hands drifted to push your leggings down. His lips trailed to your neck as he pushed himself into you, eliciting a quiet moan from you and a growl from him when you dug your nails into his skin. You tried not to make too much noise, worrying that the park was still too close to the neighbouring houses, but every once in a while you whined out a curse word

  “Fuck,” Matthew moaned out before you could, “oh god” he grunted against your neck as he continued to pump in and out of you, your back arching to gain more friction

  “Shit,” you whimpered, “fuck.” His speed increased and you giggled when you heard the Merry Go-Round start to squeak

  “Shh” he chuckled

  “I’m sorry” you laughed back, trying to focus more on the pleasure than the noise and after a few minutes, Matt released inside you and rolled to the side. You curled up beside him, placing your hand on his chest before you fell asleep next to him. You woke up with the dawn, letting Matt sleep while you watched the Sky lighten

  “Good morning” he cooed, kissing your shoulder as he sat up

  “Good morning,” you smiled, turning to lay a kiss to his lips, “we should probably get out of here before someone rats us out” he laughed but nodded in response, grabbing his hoodie from the ground and wrapping it around you. You watched him drive smoothly through the streets and you smiled to yourself

  “What?” he smirked

  “Nothing,” you replied, “I just... like you a whole lot”

  “That so?” He chuckled to himself

  “Yeah”

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like you a whole lot, too.” He reached out his hand to interlock his fingers with yours and a flush of heat ran through your body. He had managed to make you forget about everything for a while and you were grateful to him for that but you were still scared that you’d end up alone in the long run. “Hey,” he said, seemingly catching your eyes fall to your lap, “I meant what I said last night”

  “What?” You replied, furrowing your brow

  “You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here for you”

  “Thank you,” you smiled, dropping your head on the headrest, “for everything.”

  “Any time” he smirked, bringing your hand up so he could kiss it while the two of you drove silently back to his house.

[libraryofloveletters]

Amnesia

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Fem!reader, cheesy love letters, crying, break ups, mentions of blood and injuries 

Category: Angst 

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: mkay, I didn't use the whole song. It flips back and forth between the reader and Spencer’s pov, flashbacks of their relationship are in italics!

Song: Amnesia 

----

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted

I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted

Aaron placed a paper on your desk. You glanced up at him as he gave your shoulder a small squeeze. Spencer’s eyes were on you and you could feel it. You weren't ready to tell them that you were transferring. 

Working with Spencer after the breakup was hard. 

You did what you believed was best for the team. You stood up and walked out to take a phone call, leaving everything where it was, figuring that you’ll pack up after everyone leaves. 

Spencer watches Penelope walk to your desk, her eyes scanning the paper on your desk. “It’s.. oh my god” she says, Derek looks over at her “what is it mama?” 

“Transfer papers. Y/n’s leaving the BAU”

Everyone’s eyes were on you as you walked back into the bullpen, everyone but Spencer. Penelope sat at your desk, the paper in her hand. “You’re really leaving ?” she had a small pout on her face, you nodded. “Oh baby” she pulled you into a hug, soon enough everyone came over.  

Everyone knew why you were transferring, it didn't need to be said. Spencer was on the team first, it was only fair that if one of you were going to leave then it would be you. 

“Come and visit all the time” JJ said as she and Emily hugged you, Emily nodding in agreement. 

“I’m gonna miss you mama” Derek gave you a good solid squeeze, “gonna miss you too, D” 

In typical Rossi fashion, you were greeted by two kisses on the cheek. “Don’t be a stranger kid” you smiled at him. 

Penelope hugged you once more, “promise you’ll come and see me all the time. Oh! and we’ll still have our weekly lunch and gossip” you laughed, “of course Penny, I wouldn't miss it for the world” 

Even Aaron seemed sad by your departure, “take care of yourself y/n” “you too Aaron” he gave you a small hug. 

Finally, Spencer stood up and made his way over. He gave you a quick and semi awkward hug before wishing you good luck. 

JJ, Penelope and Emily helped you pack up your desk and made you promise once more that you’ll come visit them. You glanced over at Spencer on your way to the elevator, his head was down in his book, his finger trailed across the page as he read. Once again, JJ, Emily and Penelope pulled you into a group hug before letting you get in the elevator. You smiled at them as the doors shut. 

The thought of your hug with Spencer replayed in your head. 

And even though your friends tell me you're doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he's right beside you?

When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?

7 months have passed since you last set foot in the BAU. You had been keeping up with the team outside of work. You had seen the girls for drinks one night, popped into Rossi’s for dinner, went over to help Derek with his latest house project and visited Aaron at one of Jack’s games. Only person you hadn’t seen was Spencer. 

At one of your girl’s nights, you met a guy named Jacob. The two of you hit it off and exchanged phone numbers, which led to a date which ended in you and Jacob starting a relationship. 

You had kept the girls in the loop about your budding romance with Jacob, but only the good parts. They didn't know about the fights and the sleepless nights. 

You were currently have one of those sleepless nights. Tumbling through your boxes of stuff from your apartment with Spencer, you came across a stack of letters. 

You opened one of them and began reading,

“To my darling y/n, 

This week has been tough. I wasn’t sure how to help you physically but I decided to help you the way I know how too, through words. Just a little reminder to make you feel better, hopefully. It was 2 years ago tonight that I asked you to be mine and you told me you loved me. You changed my life that evening, leading us on a journey that would bring us so much joy. 

Every time I look at you, my love for you grows deeper, a degree of love I didn't know I possessed. Whenever something good happens, you’re the first person I want to tell and when something bad happens, I know I can count on you to take me in your arms and tell me that everything will be okay. I can only hope that I'm that person for you because I want to be, because I'm here for you and I always will be. 

I’m the luckiest man in the world because I can say with all of my heart, that I'm in love with my best friend. I know that I can't give you the world, but I promise to hold on to you forever, there is nothing that would give me greater joy than seeing you happy. 

Your love is everything to me.

There’s not another in the world that can hold a candle to you, my love, as you are my one and only. I love you more than even the most heartfelt words can express. 

Yours always, 

Spencer. R” 

The tears rolled off your face and onto the paper. Spencer had always had a way of telling you exactly what you needed to hear, even if you weren't with him. 

Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?

If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

'Cause I'm not fine at all

Y/n and her boyfriend sat at Rossi’s dinner table with the rest of the team. He had invited her to the team dinner because they all missed her, even Spencer, although he would never admit that. 

Spencer knew she was coming, he just didn’t expect her to bring her new boyfriend. It felt wrong for her to do that because he would never bring another girl to a team dinner. 

There would never be another girl for him. 

They sat there laughing along with everyone as Derek told his story. His hand was on her shoulder and her smile was still as beautiful as it had always been. Spencer couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, she had captured his attention once again. 

“Pretty boy” Derek called out to him, breaking Spencer’s gaze away from her. 

“What is it ?” 

“Did you hear what I said ?” 

“Fran took your sister to the doctors only to find out that it was a hickey and not a burn mark. I heard you Derek” 

Y/n’s eyes were on Spencer as he spoke. Spencer glanced over at her, their eyes meeting. It felt like forever before either of them looked away. She gave him a small smile before shifting slightly which caused her boyfriend’s hand to fall off her shoulder. 

A glimmer of hope flashed through Spencer’s body. Her boyfriend’s hand falling off your shoulder, maybe it was intentional, maybe she was trying to tell him that she wanted Spencer and not him. 

Or maybe it was all in his head, he was reading too much into it. 

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the make-up running down your face

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them

Like every single wish we ever made

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

And forget about the stupid little things

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I never can escape

The two of you stood in your bedroom screaming at each other. 

“How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking Spencer ? I can't read your friggin’ mind!” 

“Maybe if you paid attention to someone other than yourself, you’d know how I felt!” 

You scoffed and shook your head, you could not believe him right now. “What? you know it’s true y/n” he uttered, taking a seat on the bed

“I can’t believe you. Out of all the people in the world, you call me self centred ?” 

“I didn’t say tha-” 

“No, but you did. If only I paid attention to someone other than myself right ?”  

He rolled his eyes, he was acting like a child and he knew that. The last few weeks you’ve been wrapped up in work and honestly, yes, you had been a little distant but you were going to tell him why tonight. Since he wanted to act like a child and argue with you, why not give him what he wants? Since you never pay attention right? 

“I try my best to be there for you Spencer, I always do and you know that. You told me I coddle you too much, so I gave you your space. When you were worried about your mom, I sat up with you all night and helped you come up with ways to help her. When you were in the hospital, I sat by your bed day and night. Whenever you needed me, I was there for you. I dropped everything for you. So don’t you even dare to pull that I only focus on myself shit with me.” 

He was quiet, you stood in front of him. His arms reached out for you but you stepped away. 

“I don’t think you love me anymore y/n” Spencer whispered. 

“What?” you were in shock. 

“We haven't been okay for the last few weeks. This isn’t working, we barely talk and we see each other everyday, all day.” 

“Spence, I know I've been busy with work but I-” he cut you off 

“y/n, please. don’t.” He looked up at you with a sadness in his eyes. The tears threatened to fall but you held your ground. You couldn't let him see you fall apart, you wouldn't. 

“That’s it then ?” you looked at him, your face expressionless. “3 years for nothing?” 

“I’m sorry” 

“You’re not.” You picked up your go bag from the corner of the closet. “I’ll be back for my stuff another day” 

The pictures that you sent me they're still living in my phone

I'll admit I like to see them, I'll admit I feel alone

And all my friends keep asking why I'm not around

It hurts to know you're happy, yeah, it hurts that you've moved on

Spencer was moving out today. He couldn’t stay in a house full of memories.

Memories of her.

Derek had come over to help him pack up the last of his stuff. Spencer emptied his clothing into a suitcase, just throwing everything from the drawers into the suitcase. 

A picture had fallen onto the pile of clothes, it laid face down. It must have been buried between the clothes. Spencer picked it up, flipping it over. A smile creeped onto his face, it was one of those 4 frame pictures from a photo booth. You had managed to convince him to take one with you on your first official date as a couple. 

He sat on the bed, his finger brushing over the picture. The memories of that day coming back to him like it was yesterday. 

“Spence pleaseee” you begged him. 

“Y/n, do you know how many germs those photo booths have?” He gave her a stern look. 

“I promise to let you shower with bleach or lysol. Whatever will get the germs off” you laughed, he shook his head with a smile on his face. 

“Just this once” you grabbed his hand. He nodded, “just this once” 

The first picture was of the two of you laughing, your hand rested on his cheek. The second picture, you were in the same position, the two of you were smiling at each other and his hand rested on yours. The third picture, your foreheads were against each others and the final picture was of the 2 of you kissing. A tear rolled down his face, how could he have let you go like that? It hurt him just to think of you, let alone of how he let you go. 

“Pretty bo- what’s wrong?” Derek walked into the room, taking a seat beside him on the bed. Derek looks down at his hand to see the picture. Spencer looks at him, face covered in tears. Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out, instead he falls into Derek’s arms. 

“Shh, it’s okay. let it out man, you’ll be okay”

“Why did I let her go?” Spencer mumbled into his shoulder 

“What do you mean ?” 

“I just let her leave. I should have tried harder” 

“Spencer, she’s happy. Don’t beat yourself up okay ? You’ll be happy again too. I know you will” 

It's hard to hear your name when I haven't seen you in so long

It's like we never happened, was it just a lie?

If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

'Cause I'm not fine at all

“Oh my sweet Derek!” Penelope’s heels clicked as she made her way into the bullpen. 

Derek spun his chair around at the sound of her voice, “hey mama. What’s going on?” he got up and gave her his chair. She sat down and Derek leaned against the edge of his desk, she grabbed his hand. 

“You’ll never guess who came to visit me today!”

“Who was it babygirl?” 

“y/n! and she bought my favourite cold brew for me, oh man I miss her” Penelope let out a big breath between leaning back in Derek’s chair. Derek chuckled, “how is she?” 

Spencer’s head perked up when Penelope said your name. He couldn’t help but wander over to Derek’s desk. “She’s good, her and Jacob ended things but she’s happy.” Penelope smiled at Derek. 

“Hey Spence” Penelope smiled at him, he gave her a tight lipped smile. “Just needed to borrow this stapler” he picked up the first thing he saw which was the stapler. 

“You have one on your desk pretty boy” Derek chuckled, “yeah. mines broken” 

The truth was that Spencer just wanted to know how she was. He was glad to hear that she ended things with her boyfriend, maybe he could talk to her and fix things. There was that glimmer of hope again. 

He knew it was foolish to think that they could go back to what they had, or to even be friends but he truly hoped that she would come back to him. 

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the make-up running down your face

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them

Like every single wish we ever made

Spencer sat at his desk when the door unlocked. You stepped in and sighed, “hey” Spencer looked up at you from his book. 

“Oh sorry, I didn't realize you’d be home. I figured you were still at the office” you mumbled, shutting the door. 

“It’s fine. You're here for your stuff?” he asked, watching as you place your keys beside his. You nodded, “everything is still where it’s always been” he said before turning his attention to his book. You headed into the bedroom to pack up the rest of the clothes you had left. 

You bumped into the bedside table knocking over the picture frame that was on it. “Shit” you bent down to pick up the pieces but you cut your finger on a piece of glass. Spencer walked into the bedroom after he heard the frame fall. 

“Y/n, are you okay ?” he helped you up, leading you to the bathroom. 

“I’m fine, I just cut my finger in the frame” you ran some water over your hand. You watched as the blood washed down the drain, not waiting to make eye contact with Spencer. “Let me get you a bandaid” he bent down to get one from the drawer, his head brushing against your leg. 

“I’m fine” you walked out of the bathroom, his hand grabbed yours. He wrapped the bandage around your finger and you let him. “Thanks” you mumbled before stuffing the rest of your clothes into the suitcase. He walked with you to the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me come get my stuff” 

“You don’t need to thank me y/n” 

You went to unlock the door when you felt Spencer’s hand on yours. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Spencer asked you quietly, you shook your head and let out a shaky breath. “Spencer... don’t do this. please” 

“I can't let you go” 

“it’s over, okay? you can't stop me from leaving” 

“y/n I love you” he whispered, looking at you. 

“I love you too Spencer, but what’s done is done” 

Spencer stood there, the two of you looking at each other. His back against the door and your hand on the knob. You felt the tear roll down your cheek, you watched his hand reach up to wipe it away. Spencer’s hand rested on your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly against your face. 

Right then and there, you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again but you know you had to hold yourself together. 

“Move, please” you looked at him, pushing his hand away from your face. 

A small okay left his lips before he stepped away from the door. 

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

And forget about the stupid little things

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I never can escape

If today I woke up with you right beside me

Like all of this was just some twisted dream

I'd hold you closer than I ever did before

And you'd never slip away

“Good morning sleepy head” you smiled at him from the door. 

Spencer sat up and smiled at you. “Morning” you made your way over the bed with a cup of coffee for him. You set the mug on the bedside table before hopping back into bed with him. 

Spencer lays back down making himself comfortable against your chest. “How’d you sleep sweets?” you asked him as you ran your fingers through his curls. 

“I slept okay” he flipped over and onto his stomach. He rested his cheek on your stomach while looking up at you. 

The sun shined through the cracks in the curtains. The light glistened across your bare skin, accentuating your beauty. 

“Angel” Spencer mumbled smiling up at you. 

Your thumb rubbed softly against his cheek, “hm?” you smiled at him. 

“You look like an angel” his words causing you to blush. 

Tell me this is just a dream

'Cause I'm really not fine at all

Spencer's alarm goes off. 

6am. 

He rolled over to find an empty bed. Being back in your arms, you looking like an angel from the heavens was all a dream. 

You were actually gone. 

[tinyboxxtink]

“Helpless” *FINALE*

Mwahahaha I got around the un-even numbering. Well, this is it! I hope you’ve enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I really need to make a Master List of all my “works”, but if you wanna check out my other stuff just type “Rafael Barba Imagine” into the search bar of my page. 

As always, big thanks to my lovies:

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@chasingeverybreakingwave

The COMPLETE Collection:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

And without further ado, the CONCLUSION!!!!

After your shower and you were in some clean pink scrubs, you decided it would probably be best to go look for the squad. Apparently you were still “a suspect”, so you didn’t want to make it look like you were trying to flee or something. 

You found your way back to the waiting room, but only Fin and Carisi were still there.

“...Where’d Benson and Rollins go?” You asked, glancing around the area.

“Well it’s like 4 am, they both have kids, I’d told them we’d update them if anything happened with Barba,” Carisi told you.

“Which you can now do,” Fin added, grabbing his jacket off a chair.

“...I’m sorry, what?” you asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be ‘watching’ me or something?” 

“They combed your street and found the gun, the idiots tossed it as they were driving. And as far as your whole ‘hustling’ business, if Barba vouches for you, I’m not gonna bother with a shitload of paperwork just because you got some money out of some old white dudes,” Fin chuckled.

“So you’re off the hook, and I’d really like to sleep in my own bed,” Carisi patted your back as he walked out with Fin. 

“I--Are you sure? Olivia isn’t gonna--” 

“Olivia’s gonna be a lot of things, but none of it matters legally speaking. So y'all need to work that out on your own,” Fin held up his hands like he was washing his hands of the drama.

“Right. Well I’m sure the doctor will call her,” You really didn’t want to have to talk to her anymore than you needed to. 

“Right. Night, Y/N” Carisi waved as they continued to walk down the hallway and out the front doors.

Okay, so now you were alone. On your own. In a hospital. Great.

Suddenly, you remembered the magical sticker. You pulled it out of the scrubs pocket and stuck it to your shoulder. Then you turned to the big doors that read 

“ICU: Approved Personnel ONLY”

Well, you were in scrubs.You took a deep breath and made a sign of the cross before you walked confidently through the doors. Hopefully people would just assume you were a nurse. 

You were met on the other side with a bustle of doctors and nurses running around, patients being pushed through the hallways; lots of machines were beeping, and you could hear a CODE BLUE down the hall. 

“Please don’t be Rafael Please don’t be Rafael…” you closed your eyes and whispered, but were quickly interrupted.

“Excuse me sweetie, are you lost?” An older male doctor tapped your shoulder.

“Oh um-- yeah YES. I am,” you lied. This is what you did best, just roll with it. 

“It’s my first day, and I got separated from my group. We were doing rounds, and I believe our next room was the ADA?” 

“The ADA…?” The doctor started typing in his tablet, as if someone would add “The ADA of New York” in his patient notes.

“I think his name is Ralph something,” you lied; a nurse wouldn’t be all on the up and up of law people, would they?

“Ah. Rafael Barba. Oh you’re right, it says VIP PATIENT here. He must be something special,” 

“He really is,” You sighed, causing the doctor to look at you funny. 

“I mean, so I’ve heard,” 

“Well it says here DO NOT DISTURB, so I don’t believe you were doing rounds in his room…” The doctor raised an eyebrow as he tilted the tablet towards you. You saw “ROOM 304” next to Rafael’s name.

“Oh, you know what you’re right! I think they said we were NOT rounding on him, y’know cuz he’s the ADA,” You gent;y rubbed your shoulder against his. “I must’ve gotten mixed up because of your beautiful blue eyes,” you batted your lashes, to which the elderly doctor happily ate up.

“Oh well, no harm no foul,” He smiled.

“Ok well I’m sure I can find them, thank you doctor!” you gave him the cheesiest smile and a wink, walking away quickly. You made it into an elevator right before it closed. Luckily, the only other person in it was “Another” nurse, who looked like she might pass out right there in the elevator; she paid you no mind. 

You hit FLOOR 3 and rode up to the floor, practically jumping out of the elevator. You turned to see signs that pointed 300-320 left and 320-340 right. You went left, searching the numbers until you saw 304. You looked around to make sure no one had noticed you definitely did not belong there, and when the coast was clear you opened the door slowly and snuck in the room.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” 

Fuck, you were caught. You were running multiple scenarios of lies in your head as you turned around, but to your relief it was the nurse who had given you the sticker.

“Ah, I see it worked,” she gestured to the sticker on your uniform.

“It did, thank you so much,” You thanked her softly, your eyes moving towards Rafael’s still unconscious body. You immediately grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to him, stroking his hair. 

“Hey...baby I’m here,” You whispered, wondering whether he could hear you or not.

“It says here he coded three times in surgery, but he came back,” The nurse read his chart off her tablet.

“Why….why would I want to know that?” you asked almost angrily.

“...Patients have a lot to do with their own response and recovery,” she replied. “I was just implying he was fighting like hell for something,” she smiled, making you smile for the first time since Rafael had left you at your apartment. God, that moment had been so perfect; how did you get here from there? 

“I’ll put a DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door, no one will bother you,” The nurse put a hand on your shoulder as she started to walk out. “I think he’s going to be okay sweetie, I really do,” 

“Thanks,” You gave her a small nod, and she was gone. Leaving just you and Rafael, alone. 

“So...I’ve never seen a guy work so hard to get me alone,” You chuckled, calling back to the first conversation you had at Forlini's. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

“Hey so, they caught Arianna and those guys,” you kept talking, praying he was listening. “I think they’re gonna go to jail for a LONG time,” you stroked his hair. 

“So, y’know obviously that means I’m out a roommate. Probably an apartment too, I don’t really know what Arianna did about that. Surely she didn’t just get out of a six month lease in the middle of the night, she must have just thought they could abandon the apartment. 

“So, if you know of  any fancy mahogany couches that are open, let me know,” You tried joking again with a fake laugh, but it just turned into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Rafael,” you whispered. “I never intended for any of this to happen. I should have never even talked to you, I should have just admired you from afar and sniffed your scotch glasses in private like a fucking creep,” you laughed for real between your tears.

“I just--” you started to talk again, but you felt Rafael’s hand squeeze yours. 

“....R-Rafa?” 

Suddenly, Rafael started to thrash and choke, his breathing tube was still breathing for him.

“NURSE!!! NURSE!!” You jumped up and screamed down the hall; your lucky nurse came rushing in. She quickly pulled the tube out and after a few gasping breaths, Rafael finally calmed down. He was conscious, but his eyes were barely open. 

“Welcome back, Mr. Barba,” The nurse smiled. “I think you gave this one quite the scare,” She nodded to you, to which Barba gave the weakest smile. 

He tried to speak, but just scratchy gibberish came from his mouth. But his beautiful green eyes were more open and had their sparkle back. 

“Your throat will be sore for a while,” The nurse informed him. “....But everything else seems to be doing good!” She checked all of Rafael’s stats on his machines, and the different tubes coming out of his body. 

“I’ll be back later-- let you two, catch up,” She gave you both a knowing smile, then walked out the door.

“I...told...you,” he hoarsely croaked. 

“What? You told me what?!” You asked him frantically, as if this was some kind of ominous threat.

“I’d….,” He cleared his throat as you grabbed a water bottle off a nearby table. 

“I told you, I’d fight for you,” He said almost completely normally after taking a swig of the water.

“...Yeah, well-- I think that was a bit much, don’t you, counselor?” You raised an eyebrow, implying taking a bullet for someone after the first date is a bit melodramatic.

“I mean, here,” he pointed to the bed. 

“W-What?” you blinked in confusion. 

“I fought to come back,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “For you,” 

“Why?” you blinked again, still in awe.

“Because you asked me to,” He smiled, taking his free hand and stroking your hair back as you had been doing while he was out. 

“Y-You heard all of that?!” you gasped.

“Well, I thought I had hallucinated it until you just confirmed it for me,” He gave you a mischievous smile.

“Oh my god,” You blushed and hit him softly, forgetting about his tubes and shoulders. He winced in pain, and you immediately started to comfort him again.

“Oh my GOD, what is wrong with me?! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, carino. And I’m not done yet either,” his words made you stop fiddling with the wires and look him straight in the eyes.

“....Done what?”

“Done loving you, dummy,” he shook his head as if to say “DUH.” 

“Oh my god you DID hear all of it!” You put your hands over your face, your face turning red. Then you realized what he had actually said. 

“WAIT...did you just say…?” your eyes bugged out of your head. 

“I love you, Y/N.” he smiled sweetly, squeezing your hand.

“Really? Are you sure? Because we can just--” He shut you up by leaning over and kissing you. 

“Since I saw you sniff my scotch glass,” He cut you off. “I thought ‘I’m gonna marry that weird girl one day’,” 

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there mister,” You put your hands up. “I mean, you can almost die for me, but marriage? That seems a bit much,” You gave him a tongue-in-cheek smile. 

“We’ll negotiate,” He smirked. “In the meantime…” He moved himself away on his bed, adjusting the wires to make a space. He patted it for you to get in.

“I...I don’t think these are made for two people, what if I break it?” You eyed the bed, trying to calculate the weight max.

“I’ll buy them another one,” he chuckled.

“Oh right, with your copious amounts of money,” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, better spending it on that then more ties,” he smirked.

“NO. Never stop buying ties!” You giggled, climbing into the bed with him. He adjusted the arm that wasn’t in a sling around you. You snuggled into him, and he placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling was back; the safe and warm feeling

And you knew in your heart, you’d never feel helpless again. 

[slytherflynn]

Old and New | Pt I

Blaise Zabini x muggle!reader

word count: 1971

summary: y/n is new to France on a study abroad trip. Blaise is visiting France post-Hogwarts. rags to riches story of an unfortunate muggle falling for a complicated, ridiculously wealthy person who just so happens to also be a powerful Wizard.

a/n: this started with an idea, became a moodboard, then became an entire fleshed out fic! I thought it would be short but my brain had other ideas. enjoy! note: I did write this from my personal perspective in life. as a result it is not very inclusive. I plan to change that with my next fics, I’ve just been having a really hard time lately and have been writing a lot of comfort fics and/or self-inserts to escape from irl bc irl is rly shitty for me rn

It’s a brand-new start, in a brand-new apartment, in a brand-new city, in a brand-new country... an ocean away from home. I can bring Tacoma to France, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. Study abroad is fucking... scary. I kinda regret it. It’s a good opportunity and for someone who doesn’t travel, it should be a fun experience. But I’m currently having an anxiety attack over taking out the garbage, so I’m not sure my positive self-talk is working.

I look out the window of my top floor apartment, wait until someone finally finishes walking down the stairs, and run out my door - I nearly trip about five times going down the spiral of death, my arms feel like jelly thanks to perpetually pushing my garbage deeper in to avoid this trip, and I swing with all my might to hurl my garbage bag into the trash compacting dumpster - only it hits the bottom lip and falls to the ground, splitting open.

“Great!” I say, sarcastically, “First they send my luggage to the wrong location, then they try to say my passport isn’t valid because my apartment was a temporary address, then I’m greeted with a fridge full of rotting food and no power, then I’m bitten up by fleas and now - I just- fuck. Why can’t I just- do anything- right-“ I cut myself off when I hear a screen door slide and blink a couple times to erase the threat of tears that had been creeping up on me while I ranted.

When I look up, I see a tall, dark-skinned guy about my age - handsome. He’s wearing a suit, and expensive jewelry. Combine that with the fact he’s living in the apartment building next to me, which is worth more than my life just for one month of rent, and I put together that he’s probably rich beyond belief. I quickly look away, not wanting to stare. I silently pick up my garbage, piece by piece. As I work, I feel eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. I ignore it. It continues, and I still ignore it as I finally shove my ripped garbage bag in the compactor and slam the door shut. I hear a slight jump up above, and chuckle to myself.

I zoom back up the stairs and almost make it to the top, but I trip 5 stairs away from my door - and fall, hard. Body laid out flat hard. Cheek scraped and stinging from the metal grating on the stairs, hard. Lost the goddamned slide that caught on the stair, and can see it gradually falling, bouncing and rolling down the stairs, hard. I lift my head and see blood on the stair. I feel it running down my face. All I can think is that this really fucking hurts. The tears come, a combination of pain and frustration, and I pick myself up and stumble my way into my apartment, completely forgetting about the attractive rich boy who just watched me be a danger and inconvenience to myself.

I rush to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towels, and run to the bathroom, I see the markings in the mirror and can tell it will leave a sizeable scar. Do I need stitches? I don’t know. Anyway, I start dabbing at everything and blood is still oozing out of every nook and cranny, to my displeasure. I’m about to start bandaging my face when I hear a knock on my door. “Fucking Christ!” I mutter to myself as I slap a wad of paper towels on my face and sulkily go to fling open my door.

I’m not sure who I’m expecting, but to see the same rich guy on my doorstep, slide in hand, probably wasn’t it. “Hey, um, I saw what happened, and I thought you might want your shoe back.” His accent sounds very British - I was expecting it to sound more like a snooty Frenchman’s.

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” I say flatly.

As my muscles twitch to begin closing the door, he says, “Would you like some help cleaning that up? I have certifications to give medical aid... and stitches. My name’s Blaise, by the way.”

Doctor, maybe? Probably. “Sure,” I say, opening the door wider and standing back so the blood doesn’t drip on his suit. “I’m y/n.”

A few minutes later we’re in my bathroom, me sitting on the toilet, him sitting on the bathtub as he helps me fix my face. “So, Mademoiselle y/n,” He asks, “Do you find yourself in these predicaments very often?”

“Which one? Poverty, flea bitten, or bloody?” I say.

“I suppose whichever you’d like to think I was referring to.”

“Well, in *that* case - I’m usually caught unawares in all kinds of predicaments - though I’d say self-injury due to clumsiness is an uncommon one. And do you usually find yourself in predicaments requiring you to treat someone’s wounds?”

“I used to, though now it’s only on the occasion.”

“Sounds like an improvement,” I note. “I won’t guarantee it, but I think I’ll get the hang of walking up the stairs soon enough, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily mind it if I did worry about you once or twice more. Why were you running? It seemed like you wanted to get away from something. Does your garbage compactor smell that disturbing?”

“It doesn’t smell great,” I admit, “But truth be told, I’m not a fan of human interaction. It’s scary. Especially when everything is new to me.”

“How long have you been In France?”

“A few days, just enough to get myself physically settled.”

“I see. And you are from America?”

“Mhm. Let me guess, my accent gave it away.”

“And the slang, I’ve yet to hear someone from France use certain terms that you seem to favor.”

“Oh, most of my slang is specific to my city, not just my country.”

“Your city?”

“Yea, Tacoma. It’s near Seattle, if you know where that is. Tacoma’s better, though.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. My mother is a fashion designer, but she only travels where there’s inspiration or a business deal.” So that’s how he gets the expensive clothes. The rest of the money too, probably.

“Must be nice, having a handmade closet.” I muse. “Not that I care for having any more clothes than I brought. They’re pretty reliable, if I do say so myself.”

He laughs. “Yes, well, if the blood stains don’t come out of your jumpsuit you might need a new one. They shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, though.”

“Yea, I’ll just dump a bucket of Oxi-Clean on it and call it a day. That is, if any stores nearby have it.” I frown, realizing I have no clue if France carries any of the products I usually get. This is gonna suck. Hopefully the internet has some answers so I don’t have to ask anyone for help.

“Why don’t I take your jumpsuit back with me? Save you the trip. Believe it or not, I used to have chronic nosebleeds, so I know a thing or two about stain removal.” Blaise offers.

I smile, only just. “Well, if you insist. But I love this jumpsuit practically more than myself, so I expect it back right away!”

He returns the smile. “A fan of fashion? You ought to meet my mother.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure your mom would despise me - I only own seven jumpsuits and some athleisure for going on runs.” I pause, then tack on: “Oh, and some fuzzy pajamas for when I’m sick.”

Blaise cocks a brow at me. “And when you’re not sick?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I grin mischievously.

A wave of recognition graces his eyes, and he very quickly looks away, I assume for being flustered.

“You Americans, always so scandalous.” He tsks in mock scorn.

“That’s what we’re known for, is it not?” I say cheekily, “Beer, boobs and gun barrels. And all the other problems that come with that, but that’s a can of worms I am not looking to open today.”

He ties off his handiwork, and says, “It looks like my job is finished, other than stealing your jumpsuit off your back to fix it. I can wait in the other room, if you’d like?”

“Um, yea, that works. Lemme just, grab my next jumpsuit. Gonna have to do laundry early, I suppose-“

“I can wash your jumpsuit for you. I’m pretty good at reading labels, if I do say so myself.” He jokes.

“Oh?” I say, “Then you must be a real genius! Who taught you, Einstein?”

“No, but it was another white-haired, eccentric man, so you’re not that far off.”

“When all teachers are like that it’s kind of impossible not to hit relatively close to the mark.” I remark, then change clothes as quickly as I can, tossing the dirty outfit into a trusty plastic bag and tying it shut.

When I walk out to the living room, Blaise is toying with one of my sculptures. He’s definitely been meandering and lurking around. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, at which he jumps. “You’re rather skittish, Blaise.”

“And you’re rather quiet on your feet, y/n.” He observes. “But yes, I quite like your eclectic style. If only you had an apartment that let your customization shine. Something more minimalist.”

“Yes, well, it’s something I’ll forever dream of and likely never accomplish. I don’t suspect I’m going to be someone leaving the income level I was born into.” I say, just a little bit cynical.

“And why is that?” He asks.

“Because most people don’t, and the ones who do are the ones who make money. My career isn’t going to make me money.” I reply.

“So why did you pick it?”

I sigh. “Because somebody has to care about the people like me. The politicians don’t, the middle class don’t, and the rich are hell bent on keeping us there so they can have factory workers and have people going straight to prison after they graduate because we’re all desperate and miserable.”

He frowns. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s reality. And I don’t want to be like the people who get rich and stop caring because all they see is the wage difference and pretend it’s justified so they don’t have to feel complicit in the system.” I look him in the eye, my face grim. “Not all luck is by chance. Most of it is by design.”

He nods. “I understand, in a way.”

“Everyone does.” I say. “But understanding in a way and caring enough to do something about it are two different things.” I look away from him when I see his posture change. “I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s impossible not to notice the wealth gap between us when you’re wearing designer clothes and living in what looks like a mansion and I’m living in a building made in like 1900 with no elevator. It’s just the way things are, though.”

“I know.” He says quietly, thoughtfully. “I’d better get going. Your clothes?” He reaches out tentatively for the bag I’m still holding.

“Oh. Right.” I say, handing it to him. Our fingers brush against each other slightly, and it sends chills down my spine. He heads to the door while I’m rooted to the spot, collecting myself.

“I look forward to seeing you again, y/n.” He nods, meeting my eyes with a rather changed expression.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” I ask, not quite sure which answer I’m expecting.

He smiles, only just. “As soon as I am able.” Seconds later, he’s out the door, and I’m alone in my dingy ass apartment. How in the fuck did any of that just happen?

[every1studio]

true feelings series: “last christmas” [ateez: wooyoung]

genre: angst + fluff (WARNING: mentions of terminal illness]

ficstyle: bulletpoints + series  [HONGJOONG] [YUNHO] [SEONGHWA] [WOOYOUNG]

prompt: you didn’t want to tell wooyoung about your illness, so you wanted to give him one last happy memory of you two together

note: intentional lowercases / SORRY I AM NOT GOING TO WRITE FOR REQUESTS ANYMORE, I HOPE THAT YOU CAN UNDERSTAND AND THAT YOU WILL STILL READ MY WORKS WHEN I GET OUT OF THIS DEPRESSING WRITER’S BLOCK 

you smiled from the couch you were bundled up on as you watched wooyoung laced the lights around the trees 

“wooyoung, why don’t you take a break? I made you hot cocoa..” 

he immediately drops everything and dashes over to cuddle with you

“what would I do without you?” he asks as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck 

you were smiling but you were hurting inside

the real question is what would you do without wooyoung?

you met him one year ago on christmas eve 

you were walking out the hospital, you had just got word that you had only one year and a couple months left to live 

you tried not to look so sad but the tears just wouldn’t stop 

an adorable penguin mascot jumped in front of you and started to dance

you couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden performance 

“there you go, you shouldn’t be so sad on christmas eve!” 

you nodded as you tried to wipe your tears away

“hold on one second, I gotta be return this suit and I’ll meet you back here in a few, okay?”

you could trust this person, right?

nothing bad would happen to you since you were in the middle of the hospital plaza so you nodded once more and waited for the anonymous mascot wearer 

“hey!” 

you turned to see a handsome young guy jogging towards you, “I’m off work now.. you seem a little better..”

surely he was mistaking you for someone else, “um I think you’ve got the wrong person..”

he started dancing similarly to the penguin mascot, “remember me now?”

you chuckled out soft white puffs of clouds

“yeah..”

“I didn’t think that you were gonna wait for me.. you know, I’m a stranger after all..” the guy ruffled the hair on the back of his head

he seemed shy all of a sudden 

“well.. what do you want with me?” you didn’t mean to sound so curt but your mind was running through places that would only happen in movies 

“um.. I noticed you walking into the hospital and you know.. I’m out here dancing for 5 hours in this penguin suit so I saw you walking back out... and I saw you crying..”

“there are so many people walking in and out of the hospital... how did you even notice me?”

“who wouldn’t notice someone as beautiful as you?”

you turned down at your hands to hide your blushing face

you would blame the cold weather for your redden face if he asked 

“is everything alright?” the guy bent down to try to catch your eyes 

“I.. um.. I visited someone very close to me here at the hospital.. and there was some bad news.. and I don’t have much time with them..” 

you blurted out a lie but there’s no harm in lying to a stranger, you thought 

“how much time do they have left?” the guy made himself comfortable next to you; not too close, not too far

“a little over a year...”

“well you should make the time you have left with them worth remembering.. memories are everything.. now~”

he got up from his seat and held his hand out

“let’s go bring that frown upside down!”

you were reluctant to take his hand, “I don’t even know you..”

“but would you like to? I would like to get to know you.. if you gave me the chance..”

maybe you should give him a chance, you should be spontaneous and spend your time doing the things you’ve always wanted to do 

“I don’t see why not,” you smiled as you took his hand

he wrapped your arm to link it into his, “i’m wooyoung.. sorry for the late introduction, princess”

“and i’m y/n...” 

you spend a magical night with him 

and after that night, you spent that week with him 

and after that week, you spent that month with him

and that month became months 

and now here we are, a full circle back to this night

christmas eve 

and wooyoung still didn’t know about your illness 

you hid it as much as you could 

you built lies upon lies until it was so thick that you couldn’t shoulder the burden anymore 

but you had to 

for wooyoung 

“remember the day we met for the first time?” wooyoung asked after taking a sip of his hot cocoa

you ran your fingers through his hair

“of course I do.. you were my knight in shining penguin suit..” you smiled trying to suppress a cough

“I was the handsomest penguin but hey, I got you something! hold on one sec, kay?”

wooyoung dashed upstairs

you took that time to cough into your handkerchief; blood stained it 

you quickly shoved it into your pocket when you heard him coming back 

“heard you coughing, are you okay?”

“yeah, I just choked on some hot cocoa..”

“just making sure you’re okay.. I don’t know about you but I want to you to open your present right now instead of tomorrow morning..”

you’re gonna miss his impatience 

“sure, whatever you want..”

wooyoung gently placed the beautifully wrapped gift on your lap 

you’re gonna miss his attention to detail

he was always into arts and crafts 

you took your time to open it 

you wanted to savor every moment you had with him 

tears started to form, threatening to spill from your eyes

“I thought you’d like it..” wooyoung smiled widely and he couldn’t stop smiling 

it was a fairly large snow globe; inside were you and wooyoung building a snowman version of the exact replica of the penguin mascot wooyoung wore when you first met him

there were other small details and objects that were either the inside jokes that you two shared and your favorite things

(the song that played was a music box version of your favorite song aurora by ateez)

“I absolutely love it..” you were speechless and those were the only other words other than “thank you” and “I love you”

wooyoung pulled you into a side hug and kissed your head, “merry christmas, princess”

“merry christmas, wooyoung..”

“now, where’s my gift,” he burst out into aegyo which caused you to cringe 

“you can open it tomorrow~”

“what?! you know I can’t wait that long..”

you held both of his hands and placed them on your cheeks, “please?”

wooyoung rolled his eyes and pulled you close so that your face was hidden in the crook of his neck, “sure, sure, I guess..”

wooyoung loved the holidays; he wanted to be in charge of everything from cooking to decorations 

so when he was cooking, you took this time to relieve yourself from a year worth of burden into a letter 

you placed the letter in between the ribbon that held the present you got him together 

after dinner, you and wooyoung cozied up next to the christmas tree as you two watched the snow fall layers upon layers 

you pretended that everything was okay up until wooyoung brought up a sensitive subject, “so how’s your cousin doing? are you going to see them this christmas? since it’s their last?” 

he was drawing circles on the small of your back as you tried to slow your heartbeat down

you bit the inside of your cheeks before answering, “no.. they’re.. spending their last christmas in paris... “

“christmas in paris.. that sounds like something on my bucketlist..” you felt wooyoung’s smile through his words 

“that does sound amazing..”

“we should do it!”

your heart felt like someone wrung it like a towel, “what, christmas in paris?”

wooyoung nodded as his head shifted into the sofa; he was falling asleep

“I would love to go to paris for christmas with you..” you murmured

“I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you.. but I can’t..” you whispered even more quietly 

you waited until you could hear him snore before you slipped away from his grasp 

you kissed him one last time, trying to hold your tears back and trying to keep as quiet as you could 

you had your go bag in your car; you decided to fly off to a quiet medical facility where you could spend the last few months that you had without worrying anyone 

and hopefully the doctors can learn something from your illness so that no one else can go through the pain that you experienced

that night, wooyoung had a dream

you two were in paris for christmas 

you two indulged yourselves in good cuisine 

shopped like nobodies business 

those moments flashed by like fairy lights 

in the dream, wooyoung turned your face from looking up at the eiffle tower and took a breath

“y/n, you are everything I could ever ask for in a partner in crime.. everything you do, everything from your head to your toes.. makes me just want to ask you one question..”

he bent down on one knee; he didn’t care that his knees were getting cold and wet from the snow

“y/n.. will you marry me?”

you clasped your hands as your eyes glistened as the lights reflected off of them

“wooyoung.. I would love to.. I’d love to spend of the rest of my life with you... but I can’t...”

wooyoung felt himself falling; the abyss swallowing him and he could feel it in his stomach

the hardwood floor woke him up, he had fallen off of the couch

and he found himself all by himself 

he looked over at the table that you placed the snow globe and it was gone

he frantically looked for you

the anxiety was eating himself alive 

he found a post-it note on the christmas tree 

“open your present without me!!”

maybe you had went out to get some fresh coffee, he saw the post-it note as a good sign that you would be back 

wooyoung sat there and opened the gift you wrapped for him 

the letter fell out and his hands shook as he reached for it

“wooyoung, my knight in shining armor. there was nothing that I could ask more than to ask for your forgiveness and this is why. 

december 24th of last year, I went into the hospital hoping for good news that they had treatment for me and my condition. I wanted to grab onto any hope that I could. I didn’t want my illness to define who I was. but when my doctor told me of my limited time left on this earth, I couldn’t help but let go of all hope. there was no cousin who went to paris for christmas. that person with limited time for memories was me. 

I left the hospital planning to coop myself up in my apartment until my expiry date. until I met you. day 1, you were just a stranger who I didn’t see the use in telling the truth to. but within a couple of weeks, you became someone I didn’t want to ever lose. I wanted to create as many memorable moments with you as I can, so that when I leave this earth, I only have good moments to hold onto. 

I want you to continue making memorable moments without me.  I know I’m being selfish and I know this isn’t fair to you.. but this was the best way for us to part.. someday, I’ll just be a memory to you. thank you for the best 365 days anyone could ever ask for. and I hope that you meet someone that will replace me. thank you for giving me the chance to meet you.

i’ll always love you, wooyoung. yours truly, y/n”

wooyoung couldn’t breathe 

he wanted to look for you but he didn’t know where to start 

he didn’t even know how to feel

should he be mad at you? 

was it wrong to still be in love with you?

was it even possible to love someone else more than you?

he almost forgot the gift that you got for him

with trembling fingers, he opened the present 

it was tablet; inside the tablet there was only one app

instagram; he opened it 

you created a private account to post every moment that you had spent with each other

there was snippets of videos and photos; it was like a modern-day scrapbook 

he looked at the most recent photo that was posted last night, it was a series of pictures of you and wooyoung cuddling beside the christmas tree

it was where you shared your last conversation 

that was the moment wooyoung made himself a promise to you and he was certain that he would fulfill it in your name 

a whole year passed by 

you were probably already gone by that point; but wooyoung didn’t want to believe that

he could still feel that you were out there, looking up at the same snowy skies as him 

wooyoung was spending christmas in paris by himself; physically, but spiritually he was in paris with you 

“did you miss me?” 

wooyoung has been hearing your voice every since you left him but this one felt closer and clearer

he’s always turned around and you were never there

wooyoung knew that there was 1 in a million chance that you were going to be right there, smiling at him 

but he would turn around every single time

he thought he was seeing things 

he thought that he was getting delusional 

“y/n?”

“I know I should’ve said somethi-”

wooyoung didn’t let you finish your sentence 

he ran into you and hugged you so hard

scared that if he let go, you would disappear again 

“don’t you have questions for me?” your muffles were drowned out by his puffer jacket

“I do, but right now, I don’t want to let you go.. and right now, I only have one question for you..”

wooyoung gets on one knee, ignoring how quickly his knee felt frozen 

he kept a tight hold of your left hand 

“I love you and I always will.. there’s no one out there for me but you..y/n, you are everything I could ever ask for in a partner in crime.. everything you do, everything from your head to your toes.. makes me just want to ask you one question.. will you marry me? I’ll get a ring for you, I promise- ” ”

wooyoung kept on rambling on and on; probably from shock and adrenaline 

you thought he was mad at you all this time

you thought he forgot and moved on without you

you thought there was a 1 in a million chance that he was going to be in paris for christmas 

but you were going to take it

if there was a miracle that cured you from your illness, then maybe there’s another room in your life for a miracle 

wooyoung’s eyes lit up when you nodded with joyous tears running down your face 

wooyoung pulls you close and kisses you

“don’t ever leave me again..y/n, please..” he whispers between kisses 

“I promise..” you smiled 

you’re so thankful that you have many more christmas’s to spend with your knight in shining penguin suit 

End.

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